Building Resilience of Floating Children and Left-Behind Children in China: Power, Politics, Participation, and Education 9781138552449, 9781315148182

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Building Resilience of Floating Children and Left-Behind Children in China

The past two decades have seen exponential growth of urbanisation and migration in China. Emerging from this growth is a population of floating children and left-behind children which is estimated to be approaching 100 million. These children are placed at a structural disadvantage culpable for their undesirable educational and social, as well as health and psychological, outcomes. This book offers a sociological analysis of how oscillations of government discourse have come to shape central and local educational policies regarding the schooling of these children. It also delves into child and youth resilience in this unique migration context, examining what can be done to build up the resilience of floating children and left-behind children in adverse conditions. In this vein, the book complements current knowledge by developing a sociology of resilience. It advances context- and culture-specific understandings of child and youth resilience through both school-based and community-based approaches. The book aims to answer a fundamental question: How do floating children and left-behind children become responsive and resilient to structural deficiencies and dynamics in the migration context of China? This is important reading for scholars, school professionals, community workers, and policy makers to better address the social and educational resilience and wellbeing of traditionally marginalised child populations. Guanglun Michael Mu is the Vice-Chancellor’s Research Fellow in the School of Teacher Education and Leadership at Queensland University of Technology, Australia. His research interests include sociology of education, quantitative research, child and youth resilience, as well as the learning and socialisation of the Chinese diaspora.

Routledge Research in Educational Equality and Diversity For the full list please refer to: www.routledge.com/Routledge-Research-inEducational-Equality-and-Diversity/book-series/RREED

Books in the series include: Social Justice and Transformative Learning Culture and Identity in the United States and South Africa Edited by Saundra M. Tomlinson-Clarke and Darren L. Clarke Race and Colorism in Education Edited by Carla R. Monroe Facilitating Educational Success for Migrant Farmworker Students in the U.S. Edited by Patricia A. Pérez and Maria Estela Zarate The Media War on Black Male Youth in Urban Education Darius Prier Educational Policy Goes to School Case Studies on the Limitations and Possibilities of Educational Innovation Edited by Gilberto Conchas and Michael Gottfried The Making of Indigeneity, Curriculum History, and the Limits of Diversity Ligia (Licho) López López An Asset-Based Approach to the Education of Latinos Understanding Gaps and Advances Eugene E. Garcia and Mehmet Dali Öztürk Whiteness, Pedagogy, and Youth in America Critical Whiteness Studies in the Classroom Samuel Jaye Tanner Building Resilience of Floating Children and Left-Behind Children in China Power, Politics, Participation, and Education Guanglun Michael Mu

Building Resilience of Floating Children and Left-Behind Children in China Power, Politics, Participation, and Education Guanglun Michael Mu

First published 2018 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2018 Guanglun Michael Mu The right of Guanglun Michael Mu to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested ISBN: 978-1-138-55244-9 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-14818-2 (ebk) Typeset in Galliard by Apex CoVantage, LLC

Contents

List of tablesix List of f iguresx Prefacexi Acknowledgementsxxv 1 Floating children and left-behind children in the migration context: a three-level field analysis of power, policy, and participation Government’s manipulation over migration: from control, through acquiescence, to favouritism  2 Power, policy, and participation: floating children and left-behind children in an era of large-scale migration  4 Government transitions and ideological reworkings: Three Represents, Scientific Outlook on Development, and the Chinese Dream  4 Policies in the 1990s: institutional discrimination against floating children  7 Policy making during the period from the early 2000s to 2013: do-gooder approach to floating children and left-behind children 9 Policy making since 2013 onwards: favouritism towards left-behind children  11 A sociological interpretation: cross-field effects and three-level field analysis 13 Cross-field effects amongst the fields of power, policy, and education 15 A three-level field analysis: power, politics, and participation 19 Why resilience matters for floating children and left-behind children 25

1

vi  Contents 2 Seminal work, paradigmatic shifts, and foundational models: approaching a sociology of child and youth resilience Conceptualising resilience: individual qualities, ecological resources, cultural contexts, and constructionist perspectives  34 Modelling resilience: compensatory model, protective model, and challenge model  42 Building resilience in everyday contexts: the “ordinary magic” of family, school, and community  49 An emergent sociology of resilience  53 Gender- and age-based resilience process  53 Resilience as a classed project  54 Building resilience for ethnic minority children  55 Resilience as a set of embodied dispositions: the role of habitus 57 Capital in child and youth resilience  59 Developing a sociological definition of resilience  60 3 Quantifying child and youth resilience: methodological conundrum and psychometric validation Can resilience be measured in a no-risk condition?  72 Can resilience be measured directly?  75 Culture-sensitive approach to measuring resilience  76 Validation of the Chinese version of the CYRM-12: research context, design, procedure, and results  77 Text translation, back-translation, and face validity of the Chinese CYRM-12  78 Internal consistency reliability of the Chinese CYRM-12  81 Exploratory Factor Analysis (EFA)  82 Confirmatory Factor Analysis (CFA): construct validity of the Chinese CYRM-12  84 Structural Equation Modelling (SEM): multi-group analysis and measurement invariance of the Chinese CYRM-12  86 Convergent validity of the Chinese CYRM-12  88 Methodological lessons from validation of the Chinese CYRM-12 94 4 Resistance as a sociological process of resilience: indigenous voices from under-resourced migrant families Resistance to imposed stereotype as a form of resilience  105 The portrayal of Xiaobao: a floating child, an early school leaver 107

32

71

104

Contents vii The portrayal of Xiaoliu: a left-behind child, a dab hand at chores 116 Disengagement in mainstream schooling and deviation from stereotyped desirable future  119 Resistance, resilience, and sociological implications  123 5 Recreation, socialisation, and resilience: the “magic” of physical activity Physical activity: benefits for health and implications for resilience 131 Stories about physical activity: recreation, socialisation, and resilience 133 Statistical evidence: physical activity, resilience, and positive outcomes 139 Problematising the deficit model and the ‘epistemological parochialism’ 143 Working through the stories and the statistics: hedonism and eudaimonism 144 A compensatory model of building resilience  145 Implications for school professionals, community workers, and policy makers  146 6 Social capital and community-based resilience building: Social Network Analysis, social connectedness, and social support Initiatives of community-based resilience building  154 Local policy context in Beijing  155 Evergreen community schools: sanctuary for floating children  158 Resilience building and social networking within evergreen schools 159 Resilience, social capital, and togetherness-of-differences  167 Theoretical and methodological coda  171 7 Resilience in the face of illness, fear, and stigma: being floating, left behind, and HIV positive, so what? Resilience of HIV-positive children – a field that we know little about 176 Vicissitudes of the resilience process of an HIV-positive youngster 178 Attenuating the deficit of left-behind experience: domestic care, community socialisation, and school support  179

130

153

175

viii  Contents Precipitous collapse of the foundation of resilience: falling prey to the affliction of migration  181 Reverting to the normal trajectory and developing a better self: the power of resilience  185 The ebbs and flows of resilience across time and space  191 8 Developing a sociology of resilience: reflexive learning and implications for practice, policy, and education Coming into a cultural inheritance: resilience as a habitus of Chineseness 198 Continuous morphing of floating and left-behind phenomena 200 Implications for intervention design and policy making  202 Participant objectivation  204 Concluding remarks  207

196

Index210

Tables

3.1 Parallel analysis – eigenvalues of the 12 “components” of resilience 3.2 Multi-group analysis – measurement model of the Chinese CYRM-12 3.3 Internal consistency reliability of scales (Cronbach’s alpha) 3.4 Results of factor analysis – measurement models of correlates of resilience 4.1 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between resilience and academic engagement 4.2 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between resilience and aspiration for the future 5.1 Mediating effects of resilience 6.1 Comparative analysis between children with no adversity and floating/left-behind children across multiple domains 6.2 Comparative analysis between floating children and Beijing children across multiple domains 6.3 Comparative analysis between floating children and Beijing children in social network dynamics 7.1 Xiaoli’s HIV-relevant test results over the years

83 87 89 90 121 121 141 160 161 163 190

Figures

1.1 Power, policy, and practice: cross-field effects 16 2.1 Shifting from the White model, through the culturally sensitive model, to the multiculturally sensitive model 39 2.2 The compensatory model 43 2.3 The protective model 43 2.4 The protective-stabilising model 44 2.5 The protective-enhancing model 44 2.6 The protective-reactive model 45 2.7 The challenge model 46 2.8 The working mechanism of emergent resilience 47 2.9 The working mechanism of minimal-impact resilience 48 3.1 Scree plot of the 12 “components” of resilience 83 3.2 The single-factor measurement model of the Chinese CYRM-12 86 3.3 The three-factor measurement model of social support 91 3.4 The single-factor measurement model of school staff support 92 3.5 The two-factor measurement model of social engagement 92 3.6 The single-factor measurement model of peer relation in school 93 3.7 The single-factor measurement model of subjective wellbeing 93 3.8 The single-factor measurement model of academic engagement 94 4.1 Home and work environment of Xiaobao’s family 109 4.2 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between resilience and academic engagement 122 4.3 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between 122 resilience and aspiration for the future 5.1 Picture works of children in lower primary school years 135 5.2 Cluster analysis (physical activity, resilience, and desirable outcomes) 142 5.3 Physical activity, resilience, and positive outcomes 145 6.1 Peer group activities organised by community schools 159 6.2 Friendship social network within each of the four community schools 162 6.3 Resilience pathway of floating children: the role of friend support 164 6.4 Resilience pathway of floating children: the role of significant adult support 165 6.5 Help-seeking social network within each of the four community schools166

Preface

Large cities in the developing world, with populations of more than 5 million people, on the other hand, did not experience such high growth rates in the 1990s; the average annual growth rate of large cities was 1.8 per cent, with the exception of those in China, which grew at the phenomenally high rate of approximately 4 per cent per year. (UN Habitat, 2008, p. 16)

Four decades of epochal advancement of China’s economy, science, technology, and education has continuously and increasingly amazed the world. As China rushes to achieve a sheer scale of socioeconomic development, it is at the same time beset by multifarious conundrums – air pollution, environmental damage, population growth, traffic congestion, currency inflation, sky-rocketing property price, central-local power politics, and the widening rural-urban disparity. Of particular contextual relevance to this book is the increasingly visible rural-urban differentials. As shown in Figure 0.1, the gap of disposable annual income per capita between rural and urban residents has continued to grow year by year. While the average disposable annual income of rural residents demonstrates a remarkable increase from RMB 134 in 1978 to RMB 12,363 in 2016 (depicted by the dash line), that of urban residents demonstrates an even more impressive increase from RMB 343 in 1978 to RMB 33,616 in 2016 (depicted by the solid line). Over the years, particularly since the early 1990s, the gap between the two has become increasingly palpable (depicted by the dot line). Issues of social equity, stability, and cohesion immediately emerge from the widening gap. Contributors to these issues are numerous, but the Household Registration System is at least culpable for some. The System creates a dual society, with urban-born dwellers having access to proper social services, health medicare, retirement pensions, and educational resources, and those born in the countryside having an unfavourable position in comparison (Mu & Hu, 2016). Such disparity understandably makes rural people yearn for urban life. Since the 1980s, mechanisation of farming has created huge surplus of labour in the countryside and urbanisation has created a tremendous employment market in cities. These economic forces pull people out of socioeconomically disadvantaged

xii  Preface

2016 2015 2014 2013 2012 2011 2010 2009 2008 2007 2006 2005 2004 2003 2002 2001 2000 1999 1998 1997 1996 1995 1994 1993 1992 1991 1990 1989 1988 1987 1986 1985 1984 1983 1982 1981 1980 1978

34000 32000 30000 28000 26000 24000 22000 20000 18000 16000 14000 12000 10000 8000 6000 4000 2000 0

rural

urban

gap

Figure 0.1 Urban-rural income gap (National Bureau of Statistics 1978–2016)

regions – usually rural, remote, and inland areas – and push them to work and live in developed regions – usually metropolitan and coastal areas. Social resources in China are distributed based on residents’ household registration status (the so-called Hukou) and are not easily transposable during relocations. Resultantly, rural people have a difficult time accessing social welfare when they migrate to cities. Rural-to-urban migration involves much more than a shift of residence from countryside to city. Migrant workers are often caught midway in the transition from farmers to “legitimate” urban workers. They have to face a paradox. To stay in their rural hometown would indicate taking their fate lying down and putting up with the unfavourable life conditions. But to migrate to cities seems to be an equally awful choice in that they have to suffer from systemic social exclusion due to their rural household registration status. Structural inequalities manifest in various aspects, one of which is the lower earning of migrant workers compared to that of their urban counterparts. As shown in Figure 0.2, the average annual income of migrant workers (depicted by the dot line) remains consistently lower than that of urban residents (depicted by the solid line) over the past 15 years. Although migrant workers are generally paid lower than urban residents, their average annual income (dot line in Figure 0.2) is remarkably higher than that of rural workers (dash line in Figure 0.2). Staying in the countryside would mean paler life prosperity than taking up labour work in the cities. Resultantly,

Preface xiii 34000 32000 30000 28000 26000 24000 22000 20000 18000 16000 14000 12000 10000 8000 6000 4000 2000 0

2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015

migrant

rural

urban

Figure 0.2  Disposal annual income per capita (National Bureau of Statistics 2000–2015)

the lure of economic benefit has seen a massive rural population bent on swarming into cities. In this respect, the bulk of migrant workers are economic migrants despite many other inter-nested factors behind their migration. The scale of internal migration in China is massive. As shown in Figure 0.3, the population of migrant workers has hit 281.71 million by 2016. By 2020, the estimated population of migrant workers will exceed 290 million (National Bureau of Statistics, 2014). Due to their second-class citizenship imposed by the Household Registration System (Mu & Hu, 2016; Mu & Jia, 2016), migrant workers are often targeted as cheap labour by industries of construction, manufacture, transportation and logistics, and wholesale and service. Therein lies the market force: Migrant workers would rather take up low-salary jobs in cities than idle in the countryside doing nothing. Although the cheap labour model, at least to a certain degree, contributes to urbanisation, it does not construct a robust basis for sustainable growth (OECD, 2015). As China’s working-age population has peaked and begun to decline (National Bureau of Statistics, 2015), episodic labour shortages are observable in some places. It is arguable that the era of cheap labour is drawing to a close. Having said that, large-scale rural-to-urban migration is projected to continue. Currently, a bulk of migrant workers still engage in the most labourious and the worst-paid jobs, struggling to survive and hoping to thrive in the cities.

Millions

xiv  Preface 300 280 260 240 220 200 180 160 140 120 100

242.23 252.78

262.61 268.94

273.95 277.47 281.71

225.42 229.78

2008

2009

2010

2011

2012

2013

2014

2015

2016

Figure 0.3 Population of migrant workers (National Bureau of Statistics 2008–2016)

The recent national statistics shows that migrant workers have a mean age of 38, with an overwhelming proportion (82.9%) aged below 50 years (National Bureau of Statistics, 2016). It can be assumed that a significant percentage of migrant workers are parents of school-aged children. Some migrant parents choose to bring their children to cities. Since the rural Hukou of these children barely accrues any value in cities, these children, termed as ‘floating children’, are often deprived of the social benefits and educational opportunities enjoyed by their urban peers. Similar terms, such as migrant children, are also used in the literature. However, I propose the use of the adjective ‘floating’ to describe these children because of the transient nature of their lives. The term captures the connotation of the rootlessness of floating children and takes account of their inaccessibility to sound social welfare and equal educational opportunities in urban China (Mu & Hu, 2016; Mu & Jia, 2016; Mu et al., 2013). Aware of the foreseen problems of bringing their child(ren) to cities, most migrant parents have to make a painful decision to leave their child(ren) behind in their rural hometown when they migrate to work in cities. Being looked after by grandparents or relatives in the rural communities, these children have to learn to grow up separated from their birth parents, living through a childhood without decent parenting. These children are therefore termed as ‘left-behind children’. Current literature is flooded with problem-based discussions in regard to these children, with which I do not disagree. After all, it is much safer, easier, and seemingly more natural to blame “the presumed deficits that low-income children bring to school and teachers’ alleged lack of competence to remediate these deficits” than to reveal “inequalities in the distribution of economic and educational resources” as the maneuverer behind these deficits (Cummins, 2001, pp. 651– 652). The deficit discourse has the danger of overlooking the opportunities available to these children and the strengths that these children have gained through

Preface xv life adversities. As Anderson (2013, p. 33) summaries, “deficit thinking lets the system off the hook, allowing educators to treat difference as deficit instead of prescribing alternative ways to help students learn and to address systemic inequity”. The portrait of floating children and left-behind children remains incomplete without a strength-based perspective towards the wellbeing of these children in the migration context of China. My point of departure is to avoid reiterating the disadvantage of floating children and left-behind children. To this end, I focus on empowerment and acknowledge the strengths and resources of these children, their families, schools, and communities. As each chapter of the book unfolds, I aim to present a penetrating account of how these children live through life challenges and cope with adversities emerging from the migrant context. To help formulate a preliminary impression of floating children and left-behind children, I now narrate to the reader the lived experiences of these children. Dongdong (pseudonym) was born in 2004 in a rural village of Henan province. For economic reasons, his parents decided to move to work in Beijing soon after he was born. When the couple first came to Beijing, they had to work from nine in the morning till midnight every day. Due to long working hours, they did not have time to look after Dongdong themselves. Due to the high living cost in Beijing, they were unable to afford to have Dongdong living with them. So they had to leave Dongdong behind in the hometown – a hard and sad decision for many migrant parents in China. For the first ten years of his childhood, Dongdong was brought up by his paternal grandparents. In this respect, Dongdong was a left-behind child. Things changed right after the Spring Festival in 2014, when Dongdong’s parents decided to bring him to Beijing. The city of Beijing has ever since become Dongdong’s home away from home – a complicated social space abounding with attraction and distraction, affection and disaffection, as well as empathy and apathy. This rural-to-urban movement is probably the most challenging transition in Dongdong’s life – he has become one of the floating children after being left behind for ten years. Academic literature usually studies floating children and leftbehind children as two discrete populations. This dichotomous approach may have limited utility in practice because my work shows that it is not uncommon for children to have both floating and left-behind experiences. These seemingly binary experiences are often inter-nested in the migration context of China. In this vein, the book includes floating children and left-behind children within the same frame. In the high summer of 2015, I visited Dongdong’s home – a rented, dilapidated townhouse located in the outskirt of Beijing. The family lived upstairs, and the downstairs was used as a hairdressing shop – a small business of Dongdong’s parents. The family of three has seemingly settled down in the metropolis. When I leaned against the windowsill upstairs in the townhouse, intently listening to the family’s stories, I found the townhouse being not only a physical place where the family worked and lived but also a social space where the family had to grapple with life dilemmas and predicaments. As Dongdong’s stories unfolded, I found

xvi  Preface myself inadvertently approaching his inside world – a secret, subtle microcosm that has never ever been touched before: When I was very small, my dad and mum came back home only once a year. They only came back during the Spring Festival. They bought me gifts, like snacks, toys, and picture books, but I thought they were strangers. I hid myself somewhere, trying to stay away from them. Dongdong’s experience is not unusual amongst left-behind children, whose parents are busy with their work in cities throughout the year. It is too time-costly and expensive for these parents to frequently visit their child(ren) left behind in the rural communities. As Dongdong recounted, his parents “came back home only once a year”, and they “only came back during the Spring Festival”. When Dongdong first moved to Beijing in 2014, he had already lived in separation with his parents for ten years. Therefore, it is not surprising that his parents became the most familiar strangers for him. As Dongdong’s mum confessed, “at the very beginning he wasn’t very tied up with us and didn’t talk to us that much”. As Dongdong’s parents worked hard to rebuild the family relationship, they soon encountered another problem. Dongdong’s mum noted, They [the school] asked for stuff like our temporary resident permit in Beijing, tax payment statement, rental contract of this property, testimonial of no caregiving competence in our hometown, amongst many other documents. They asked for a lot of things. I can’t remember how many things they needed, but I still have that list, a whole page long list. The list is still attached to the fridge door. You would be dumbfounded if you see that. I have to say that back then I was much stressed. All the formalities nearly drove me mad. To send Dongdong to school was truly not simple. I did all that I could. I even had to leave my business behind those days. I visited a lot of government departments, like the police station, the community centre, the social welfare office, the education bureau, and . . . I was so flat out. That was crazy. A background information is provided here. Dongdong was not born in Beijing and hence is not a registered Beijing resident as identified by the Household Registration System. Funds allocated to a particular public school are based on the number of school-aged children formally registered in the school catchment as indicated by the Household Registration System. Admission of non-local children to public schools requires additional budget and is only possible when required paperwork is completed. To collect all the required documents, Dongdong’s mum spent much time and put in a great deal of effort. Despite all the difficulties, Dongdong’s parents were desperate to move Dongdong to Beijing. After all, the family could no longer afford to live in separation, as Dongdong’s mum clearly remembered how painful it was to leave Dongdong behind. Each time we left home for Beijing, Dongdong cried to death. He gripped my sleeve tightly. I saw streams of tears running down his face. He roared,

Preface xvii “Don’t go! Don’t leave me behind! You can’t treat me like this!” My heart wrenched. My tears flowed. Dongdong had been thwarted by ten years of separation from his parents. Now, living with his parents became a treasure for him, as he confessed, My mum is very nice to me and I really like her. I try to be a good kid because each time I didn’t do well in school or didn’t behave, mum said she will send me back to our hometown. I don’t want to go back. I want to live with my mum and dad. I like my dad too, though he doesn’t talk to me that much. He’s always busy cutting hair for clients. Once the literacy teacher asked our parents to write a letter to us, my dad did a short one for me. I can remember every word he wrote. Listen, I can recite it! “Time flies. I feel gratified that you have grown into a big boy”. While Dongdong repeated every word of the letter, I realised how much Dongdong cared about his parental engagement in his school activities. The rural-to-urban transition is no doubt a learning process for Dongdong. This socialisation process has constantly shaped and reshaped Dongdong’s identities. Dongdong is no longer a left-behind child, but there is nothing to celebrate because he has become a floating child. His previous identity as a grandson has been recast into the current identity as a son. He has to repeatedly negotiate the tensions between his past identity as a rural kid and his imagined identity as an urban kid. This negotiation requires many reworkings around identity and much investment in his ‘becoming a legitimate urban citizen’ project. The excerpt below exemplifies such a transition: Sometimes I miss my friends in hometown. We often played on the farm . . . But it is different here (in Beijing). Here in school, teachers always tell us not to do this and not to do that. My teacher always asks us to wash hands and keep our hands clean all the time. I have to behave because I want to get that little red flag thing. My teacher will only give that reward [the little red flag] to those who do well in school. Some of my classmates have got many [flags] and I want them too. I want to study hard and I want to become a Beijinger when I grow up. When further asked about his urban life, Dongdong voiced his nostalgia, Now I live with my dad and mum but I miss my grandma and grandpa in my hometown. They [my grandparents] really like me. I also miss my friends there. One of them was really funny. Sometimes when I was alone, I often recalled playing with him . . . How I wish I could play with him again. Apparently, Dongdong’s urban life is still larded with pleasant rural memories – living with beloved grandparents and playing with close friends. These rural experiences are largely absent in his new urban space. Dongdong’s account here

xviii  Preface strongly aligns with what is documented in the literature – the loss of social capital in schools, neighbourhood, and community of origin constantly thwarts floating children (Liang & Chen, 2007). Nevertheless, these children have to learn to cope with challenges during their rural-to-urban transition. In this respect, migration may provide these children with a unique and critical learning moment for growing stronger despite adversities. Despite the loss of social capital, Dongdong is now living happily with his parents. In this respect, he is perhaps “luckier” than his younger self, similar to many other left-behind children whose families have been torn apart by the social forces of urbanisation and internal migration. As structural constraints continue to exclude floating children from full inclusion in cities, many migrant parents have to move to cities without their children. Therefore, the floating children phenomenon and the left-behind children phenomenon are socially symbiotic and need to be discussed within the same frame. The heartbreaking moment of separation is common to migrant families. Right after the 2016 Chinese New Year, a series of photos went viral on Chinese media. Seven-year-old Fengfeng (pseudonym used by the media) is a left-behind child. On the eighth day of the 2016 Chinese New Year, Fengfeng’s mum, like millions of other migrant workers in China, had to leave home for work in city. For Fengfeng’s mum and millions of others, reunion with family is always brief, while separation from the people that they love has become commonplace in their life. Every year after the short Chinese New Year holiday, Fengfeng’s mum had to return to Chengdu – one of the biggest and busiest cities in Southwest China – and had to continue her post-delivery job there. Over the years, she has learned to cope with the pain of leaving Fengfeng behind no matter how badly Fengfeng cried, because she had to earn money and raise her family. For Fengfeng, however, separation from his mum was undoubtedly traumatic. After all, he was only seven years old at the time of the media report. In the media report, Fengfeng’s grandparents were trying very hard to comfort Fengfeng at the moment when his mum had to leave home for Chengdu. Fengfeng could not calm down. Instead, he cried and screamed helplessly and hopelessly: “You can’t treat me like this”. Such a heartbreaking moment was recently, once again, captured by Chinese media. Nine-year-old Meiyan (pseudonym used by media) is another left-behind child. Over the past three years, she has not seen her mum who works in Inner Mongolia. On the Children’s Day 2017, her mum surprisingly came back and bought her a skirt as a gift. When her mum had to leave, Meiyan chased the motorcycle on which her mum rode for one kilometre. She did not stop until she was left further and further behind by the motorcycle. She cried breathlessly: “I don’t want any gift. I just want you”. Each time I read news reports like these, I felt a pang of piecing pain thrust into my heart. The scene of my teenage self being left behind by my parents suddenly emerged in front of me. I believe it is my personal history and childhood experience that prompt me, at least to a certain extent, to work closely with floating children and left-behind children. In June 2014, when I conducted research about left-behind children in a rural community, I heard of the life story of Xiaoyang (pseudonym) – a 12-year-old boy who has tenaciously fought against

Preface xix the misfortunes in his life. When Xiaoyang was six years old, his dad died of illness. Soon after his dad’s death, his paternal grandparents passed away. His mum, though in deep sorrow, had to find ways to raise Xiaoyang and his infant brother. She moved to work in a city several hundred kilometres away from the village. When she moved, she brought Xiaoyang’s little brother with her and “cruelly” left Xiaoyang behind in the village. At the age of seven, Xiaoyang became a leftbehind child. Xiaoyang’s mum has never come back to the village but supported Xiaoyang by remittance. A couple of years later, Xiaoyang’s mum remarried and message from her became rather rare. It is not my intention to participate in the debates about the reasons behind the mum’s remarriage, moving, and choice of the younger son. However, I do want to note that it may not be very fair to blame the mum for her “cruelty”. She might have some extenuating circumstances as the impoverished situation, the local ethnic culture, and her gendered social position may not allow her to stay in the village or to move with two children. After his mum left, Xiaoyang had to move to live with his cousin. His cousin’s house, however, was not a sanctuary. Working in Shenzhen, an economically dynamic metropolis in Guangdong Province, his cousin was only able to return to the village once a year during the Chinese New Year holiday. Consequently, his cousin was unable to provide decent caregiving to Xiaoyang but give Xiaoyang some nominal financial support. Xiaoyang often helped with farming, herding, chopping timber, and feeding livestock in the rural community so his neighbours rewarded him with food. Several years of left-behind experiences have taught him all the life skills required for raising himself independently. My first impression of Xiaoyang was that he was a happy, strong, and independent boy. However, as the sunset left deadly silence in the dilapidated house where Xiaoyang lived by himself, I realised that he was in badly need of love and care. At dinnertime, Xiaoyang gave me a unique opportunity to walk into his inside world and share his lived experience of living alone: When my clothes were broken, I had to sew them myself. If one day I am badly ill in bed, nobody will know. Dad died and mum remarried. Others often bully me because I don’t have dad. I don’t want my little brother to be bullied by others but I can’t protect him. I don’t know where he is . . . When mum left, she didn’t tell me. I don’t understand why she only brought my brother with her when she remarried. Has she ever worried when others bully me? But I believe she must have her own difficulties. Xiaoyang wiped off his tears on his sleeves and continued to recount his life story, not noticing that I was trying every effort to hold back my tears. Over the years, Xiaoyang have been threatened by multiple adversities – the bereavement of his dad and grandparents, being abandoned when his mum remarried and moved to another village, being left behind when his cousin worked in the city, and being bullied when he lived by himself. I have every reason to believe that these adversities could have easily paralysed a teenager. But Xiaoyang drew on his toughness

xx  Preface and tenacity to justify that I was wrong. When I watched him cooking and asked what he was cooking, he told me, I got some wild vegetable in the mountains, went fishing in the reservoir, and picked some bird eggs in the trees. Here I can find six or seven edible plants. Look, the leaves of this one are very nice and they taste sweet and sour. This one is edible too but the leaves are not edible. You have to eat its root. You can’t eat it raw. You have to cook it. It’s neither sweet nor bitter. It tastes like potato. Its flower is not edible but I brought the flowers back to feed the pigs. When I was herding, I had to find something that I can eat raw. I brought some rice and chili sauce with me each time I went herding. Sometimes I forgot to bring chopsticks so I had to pick up sticks on the ground (and use them as chopsticks) instead. While Xiaoyang was eating with relish, I “stole” some of his food to taste. I had to fool myself to believe that I was eating a “wild vegetable”. It tasted more like grass that he randomly collected from the field. He also showed me with pride the instrument that he invented for fishing. It was made from a plastic bottle. He explained, I put earthworms in this bottle and the fish would come to eat them. The exit is very small and the fish cannot get out of the bottle, so I can catch some fish. Pork is too expensive so I catch fish by myself. I heated a nail and used it to punch holes in the bottle, so I can tie the bottle with ropes and the bottle won’t float away with the stream. I used several bottles and left them in the water in different spots. When one bottle failed, the other one may catch some fish . . . I live by myself so I have to do everything for myself. Even when I was sick, I had to cook. Otherwise there was no food. Xiaoyang’s words were sparkling with the wisdom that he has obtained from a tough life. His frostbitten hands and weathered face told everything. I could barely persuade myself to believe that he was only a teenager. His optimistic attitude towards setbacks and his rich knowledge about life surprised me and sparked my research interest. His “unexpected” positive responses to adversity remind me of the dictum of William Stern (1923, p. 145; cited in Vygotsky, 1993, p. 33): “What does not destroy me, makes me stronger, thanks to adaptation, strength arises from weakness, ability from deficiencies”. It can be misleading to claim that Xiaoyang was born as a warrior. My fieldwork revealed that the residents in the rural community have played the role of significant others in Xiaoyang’s life. It may be the help, support, and caring of the adult neighbours that have encouraged Xiaoyang to survive. The foregoing stories epitomise the life experiences of millions of left-behind children and floating children in China. These children are constantly negotiating emergent forms of being, thinking, and doing in the migration context. It is by no means my intention to treat all left-behind children and floating children

Preface xxi as a monolithic whole, assuming that they all have exactly the same experiences as Dongdong and Xiaoyang. In contrast, my intention here is to debunk the nature, dynamics, and complexities behind the socialisation and learning of these children. In particular, I aim to build knowledge about how left-behind children and floating children negotiate their vulnerabilities and opportunities in the migration context. Such knowledge is crucial as floating children and left-behind children constitute a significant child population in China. Although it is empirically hard to estimate their exact population, the commonly quoted figures are 36 million and 61 million for floating children and left-behind children, respectively (National Bureau of Statistics, 2010), accounting for one-third of the total child population in China. Over the years, I have had the opportunity to work with numerous floating children and left-behind children. Some children were tripped up by life change and challenge, whereas others have bounced back from negative life events. In the face of adversities, only some, but not all, children have coped well. The “surprising” coping skills and strategies of these children prompt me to write this book about the resilience of left-behind children and floating children. The book has a particular focus on the sociological praxes of building resilience of floating children and left-behind children across multiple domains including family, school, and community. It aims to develop a sociology of resilience that speaks to scholarly work, pedagogic practice, community intervention, and policy making for the betterment of floating children and left-behind children in particular, and potentially, for that of traditionally disadvantaged children in general. The book develops in several stages. The first three chapters aim to construct a sound contextual, conceptual, and methodological foundation for the book. These chapters set the policy and social contexts and wade into the models, methodologies, and epistemologies of extant work on child and youth resilience. Chapters 4, 5, 6, and 7 engage in sociological analyses of the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children within and across social spaces of family, school, and community. These four chapters lend credence to a sociological model of building resilience of floating children and left-behind children within fields of domestic socialisation (e.g., family) and secondary socialisation (e.g., school, community, and powerful institutions). Chapter 8 concludes the book with implications for resilience research and practice. A synopsis of each chapter follows. The opening chapter sets the scene of the book. It portrays floating children and left-behind children in the contemporary migration context of China. This is followed by a panoramic and penetrating analysis of how oscillations of government ideologies come to shape central and local educational policies regarding the schooling and wellbeing of floating children and left-behind children. Drawing insight from the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu’s field theory, the chapter debates how power and politics behind policy making influence these children’s educational, cultural, and social participation. Such debate elicits the fundamental research question of the book: How to realise the potentialities of floating children and left-behind children and facilitate the resilience process of

xxii  Preface these children in the face of structural constraints and dynamics in the migration context of China? Chapter 2 establishes the conceptual basis of the book. It provides an overview of seminal research in the field of child and youth resilience. As the chapter unfolds, effort is made to recast the traditional notion of ‘resiliency’ into the notion of ‘resilience’. The former is built on the grounds of an ontogenic, individualistic framework and considers resiliency to be a personal trait. The latter, however, is emphatic about the individual-environmental interaction and considers resilience to be a social process. In light of the paradigmatic shift, this chapter proposes a sociology of resilience that aims to socialise and enculturate floating children and left-behind children into a set of dispositions and capacities required for rebounding from adversities in the context of internal migration in China. Chapter 3 constructs the methodological foundation of the book. Empirical phenomena in this book are both qualitatively and quantitatively examined. This chapter, however, comes to grips with the conundrum of measuring resilience. The chapter critically reviews different approaches to the measurement of child and youth resilience. Specifically, the chapter engages in a set of important methodological questions: Is child and youth resilience better measured indirectly through the evaluation of negative and positive outcomes? Or is it better measured directly as a construct in its own right? Can it be measured in the absence of adversity? Or does it have to be measured against adverse conditions? How to take into account context and culture when measuring child and youth resilience? The chapter concludes with the development of a psychometrically invariant model to gauge the resilience of floating children and left-behind children in subsequent chapters. Chapter 4 investigates the resilience of floating children and left-behind children to structural constraints in the internal migration context of China. Drawing on data collected from parents, children, and teachers, the chapter sociologically analyses the ways in which socioeconomic status shapes resilience into an embodied disposition. Although the notion of resilience is traditionally rooted in the school of psychology, this chapter rethinks resilience as a sociological notion and a class-based, intergenerational project. When the neoliberal logic behind mainstream praxis uproots many working-class young people out of their cultural communities, it also rips valuable indigenous dispositions out of their body and coerces them to happily leave their heritage culture and epistemology behind. In response to the socially defined and desired outcomes, some floating children and left-behind children engage in a praxis of resistance to mainstream ideologies – a sociological praxis re-theorised as resilience. Chapter 5 investigates the resilience process of floating children and leftbehind children within the school context. It has a particular focus on the role of physical activity in building resilience of these children. Working through picture works, essay samples, interviews, and online surveys, the chapter conceptualises physical activity as school-based pedagogic work and educational socialisation that nurture the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children.

Preface xxiii Chapter 6 showcases the work of community that facilitates the resilience process of floating children. The chapter cross-analyses multiple data sources (interview data, online survey data, and social network data) and draws on social capital theory (Bourdieu, Coleman, and Burt) to debunk patterns and dynamics behind the social connectedness within the researched community schools. In the internal migration context of China where the socioeconomic basis for domestic social capital within migrant families is shaky, community schools provide an alternative pathway to the resilience of floating children. Community-based resilience work counteracts structural inequalities, recognises social diversity and inclusivity, and enables togetherness-of-differences. Chapter 7 wades into the vicissitudes of the resilience process of an HIV-positive youngster who grew up with both floating and left-behind experiences. The chapter analyses how varying social dynamics in the fields of domestic and secondary socialisation (e.g., family, school, community, and powerful institutions) come to shape the ebbs and flows of resilience and how the youngster navigates through the waxing and waning social structures and paves his way to favourable outcomes in the face of multiple, enduring, severe adversities. Working through a sociological lens, the chapter accentuates the potential of family upbringing, school education, and community socialisation in the resilience process. Chapter 8 summarises the book. It succinctly revisits the knowledge built and lessons learnt throughout the previous chapters. The chapter concludes the book with implications for scholars, parents, school professionals, community workers, and policy makers in terms of building resilience of floating children and leftbehind children in particular, and potentially, that of traditionally disadvantaged children in general. The chapter also raises questions emerging from the continuously morphing social experiences of floating children and left-behind children. It restates the necessity and potential of a sociology of resilience to grapple with current and emergent conundrums behind the floating and left-behind phenomena. As each chapter unfolds, the sociological approach to the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children will become clear.

References Anderson, A. (2013). Teach for America and the dangers of deficit thinking. Critical Education, 4(11), 28–46. Cummins, J. (2001). Empowering minority students: A framework for introduction. Harvard Educational Review, 71(4), 649–675. Liang, Z., & Chen, Y. P. (2007). The educational consequences of migration for children in China. Social Science Research, 36(1), 28–47. doi:http://dx.doi. org/10.1016/j.ssresearch.2005.09.003 Mu, G. M., & Hu, Y. (2016). Living with vulnerabilities and opportunities in a migration context: Floating children and left-behind children in China. Rotterdam/ Boston/Taipei: Sense Publishers. Mu, G. M., & Jia, N. (2016). Rural dispositions of floating children within the field of Beijing schools: Can disadvantaged rural habitus turn into recognised cultural

xxiv  Preface capital? British Journal of Sociology of Education, 37(3), 408–426. doi:10.1080/01 425692.2014.939264 Mu, G. M., Zheng, X., Jia, N., Li, X., Wang, S., Chen, Y., . . . Diezmann, C. (2013). Revisiting educational equity and quality in China through Confucianism, policy, research, and practice. The Australian Educational Researcher, 40(3), 373–389. doi:10.1007/s13384-013-0113-0 National Bureau of Statistics, P. R. C. (2010). 第六次全国人口普查数据报告[The sixth national census data of China]. Beijing: China Statistics Press. National Bureau of Statistics, P. R. C. (2014). 2013年全国农民工监测调查报告 [The 2013 national survey of migrant workers]. Beijing: China Statistics Press. National Bureau of Statistics, P. R. C. (2015). 中国统计年鉴[China statistical yearbook]. Beijing: China Statistics Press. National Bureau of Statistics, P. R. C. (2016). 2016年全国农民工监测调查报告 [The 2016 national survey of migrant workers]. Beijing: China Statistics Press. OECD. (2015). OECD urban policy reviews: China 2015. Paris: OECD Publishing. UN Habitat. (2008). State of the world’s cities 2008/2009 – harmonious cities. London & Sterling: UN Habitat/Earthscan. Vygotsky, L. S. (1993). The fundamental problems of defectology (A. Blunden, Trans.). In R. W. Rieber (Ed.), The collected works of L. S. Vygotsky (pp. 29–51). New York: Plenum Press.

Acknowledgements

This book is a follow-up to my earlier book titled “Living with Vulnerabilities and Opportunities in a Migration Context: Floating Children and Left-behind Children in China” (Mu & Hu, 2016). I wrote the current book with rich feelings. First and foremost, I feel privileged for having had personal histories and life trajectories contextualised within the social dynamics of (im)migration. I spent my childhood alternately in different Chinese cities due to the mobile nature of my parents’ work. Each time I moved, I had to painfully leave my friendship behind and establish new networks. My distance from the local culture and the traces of my non-standard local accent incessantly complicated and enriched my identities. This still rings true for me today, and this assumingly remains true for me tomorrow. Up to now, I have experienced numerous relocations for educational and career opportunities, both cross-provincially within China and crosscontinentally in a global context. I have studied, worked, and lived in China, Canada, and Australia. Over the years, the subtle, inter-nested social identities and the nuanced, multitiered cultural tensions have repeatedly challenged and empowered me in the context of (im)migration. These challenging and empowering experiences, however, sparked my reflection on the social unease and gaffes that I have encountered: the sense of invisibility and irrelevance in dominant institutions; the self-exclusion from mainstream socialisation that does not extenuate my never-to-be-perfect second language; the diffidence when I corrected the academic writing of my White, English-speaking students; the obfuscation when I was overwhelmed by the bureaucracies, systems, and policies in powerful institutions exotic to me; the frustration when I failed to decode the cultural subtleties and politics made indiscernible to me; and the timidity when I approached local schools for research purposes in countries foreign to me. The seemingly endless list urges me to walk along the journey to resilience required for survivability and sustainability in dominant institutions. In this respect, I am similar to the floating children and left-behind children about whom I wrote in this book. Upon completion of the book, many thanks are in order here. I feel thankful for my research participants with whom I have worked over the years. These participants include floating children and left-behind children; their parents,

xxvi  Acknowledgements caregivers, and teachers; as well as many other relevant educational professionals. These research participants generously volunteered their time to engage in my study, honestly spoke of the distractions and attractions emerging from the massive internal migration in China, and openly shared their life stories and learning experiences about resilience to structural limits. I have extended my heartfelt gratitude to the participants who gave me the opportunity to work with them face-to-face. However, I have to owe thanks to those who chose to anonymously participate in my study (e.g., online survey participants). The publication of this book recognises the contribution of my research participants, shares their insightful perspectives of resilience in a wider community, and hence adds value to their contribution. I am also indebted to my true-blue family members and chums, who accompanied me through the ups and downs in my research and writing journey. It is these beloved people who shine the light on the road I am walking down, dust me off when I fall, teach me never to give up when I fail, and help me build resilience to structural adversities. Without the support and encouragement of these people, I would have been unable to complete this writing project. Here I would like to take this unique opportunity to name these beloved people: Ms. Weiming Li (李伟明), Mr. Shuhuai Mu (穆书淮), Ms. Jing Xue (薛静), Mr. Shizhuo Gui (桂士卓), Ms. Marion Welburn, Mr. David Welburn, Dr. Cassie Welburn, and Emeritus Professor Allan Luke (AO – Order of Australia). By publication of this book, I hope I have not failed their love and expectations. Last but not least, I want to acknowledge my supportive community. I have received over 20 years of public education, from primary school, through secondary school, to university. The expenditure on supporting and funding my academic learning and career can amount to one million dollars. The taxpayers in the community have invested hugely on me over the years. When neoliberalism gradually erodes public good and upholds private good, I feel that I have been long overdue in returning something to the community. By publication of this book, I hope to make changes, no matter how small they are, to the life and future of floating children and left-behind children. In this way, I hope to reward the community to which I have owed so much.

References Mu, G. M., & Hu, Y. (2016). Living with vulnerabilities and opportunities in a migration context: Floating children and left-behind children in China. Rotterdam/ Boston/Taipei: Sense Publishers.

1 Floating children and left-behind children in the migration context A three-level field analysis of power, policy, and participation Increased unaffordability of urban space and basic amenities, negative policy perspective towards migration and various rural development programmes designed to discourage migration are responsible for this exclusionary urban growth and a distinct decline in urban rural growth differential, with the major exception of China. (Kundu, 2009, p. 1)

Over the past decades, the social prosperity, cultural diversity, and economic success in China have continuously struck the world. The rapid, consistent development of China is accompanied by a dramatic increase of the urbanisation rate and hence sees the rises of numerous metropolitan cities across the country. According to the “ 关于调整城市规模划分标准的通知” (Circular on the Adjustment of City Classification Criteria) (State Council, 2014a), 15 Chinese cities are qualified as megacities with a population of over ten million. Of all these megacities, Beijing (25 million), Shanghai (34 million), and Guangzhou (25 million) are the three largest, busiest, wealthiest, and the most developed metropolises. Their sheer vastness, huge population, unique history, dynamic culture, and robust economy become irresistible temptations for many Chinese, in particular those from rural, remote, and underdeveloped regions. As indicated by the most recent national statistics, there are currently 281.71 million migrant workers in China (National Bureau of Statistics, 2016). They work and live in cities all through the year, with the exception of the period of the Chinese Lunar New Year when most of them return to their rural hometown for a brief holiday and family reunion. In the context of increasing scale of rural-to-urban migration, floating children and left-behind children come to the fore. Floating children refer to rural-born children who are below the age of 16 and who have moved with their migrant parents or guardians to city and lived in the city for more than six months. The widely cited population of floating children is 36 million (National Bureau of Statistics, 2010). The Ministry of Education (1998), however, is largely concerned with the schooling of floating children and hence defines floating children as those who commonly range in age between six and 15 and have proper learning abilities in compulsory education years. Left-behind children refer to rural

2  The migration context children who are below the age of 16 and who have one or both parents working in city and who live with their grandparents, extended family members, or other significant adults (e.g., family friends, school teachers) in rural communities. The widely cited population of left-behind children is 61 million (National Bureau of Statistics, 2010). Interestingly, the State Council (2016) recently redefined left-behind children as those below the age of 16 who have both parents working in city or one parent working in city while the other parent has no caregiving/ guardianship competence. This new definition expectedly drops the population of left-behind children down to nine million. Such a significant figure change exemplifies how policy can complicate public understanding of floating children and left-behind children. In this chapter, I construct the policy context of the book. As this chapter unfolds, it will soon become clear how spatial-social interpenetration plays out within the context of urbanisation and internal migration in China. I start with a synoptic overview of Chinese Central Government’s manipulation of intracountry migration over the past seven decades. This is followed by a chronological review of the government transitions and the shifting political ideologies during the transitions. I then engage in a penetrating analysis of how government transitions and ideological shifts come to inform migration and education policy making, and ultimately influence the life experiences of floating children and leftbehind children. The review and the analysis focus on the period from the 1990s onwards – an era when floating children and left-behind children become increasingly visible in media reports, research publications, and policy documents. Next, I draw on the French Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu’s field theory to analyse how political power infiltrates into policy making, and how macro-level power politics complicates social and educational participation of floating children and leftbehind children. I conclude the chapter with a call for a sociology of resilience to better promote the wellbeing of floating children and left-behind children.

Government’s manipulation over migration: from control, through acquiescence, to favouritism Migration does not merely encompass geographical relocations. Instead, it is a complex sociological project fraught with power politics and life struggles. Since its inception in 1958, the Household Registration System has created an invisible wall between rural and urban regions, institutionally furnished urban dwellers with favourable social services and welfares, effectively tied farmers to countryside, and led to structural inequalities between the rural and the urban. A detailed discussion of the Chinese Household Registration System is available elsewhere (Mu & Hu, 2016). A brief introduction to the System is provided here for the sake of the reader of this book. The Household Registration System officially registers, records, and recognises a Chinese citizen as a legitimate, usual resident of a particular area. Identifying information is documented in the Household Registration Book issued per household, and usually includes each family member’s demographic information

The migration context 3 (e.g., current name, previous names if any, gender, nationality, date and place of birth, blood type, body measurements, marital status, highest education qualification, religion, occupation, current residency, and history of moves). Since the Household Registration System entrenches social strata, especially the stratification between rural and urban residency status, it is often considered to be an institutionalised instrument of class distinction in China. Over the decades, the Central Government has drawn on the Household Registration System to manipulate intra-country migration. The Government’s manipulative strategies have evolved through several distinct stages, shifting from strict control (1949–1978), through acquiescence (the 1980s and the 1990s), to favouritism (2000 onwards). The Government’s manipulation over migration during the period between the foundation of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 and the Reform and Opening-Up Policy in 1978 strictly controlled people’s movement between urban and rural areas. Farmers were supposed to work and live “happily” in rural communities, contributing to the country’s development by securing agricultural supply. A farmer who sought to move to an urban area and take up nonagricultural work would have to apply through layers of bureaucracies. The number of farmers allowed to make such moves was strictly restricted. Mobile workers had to obtain a set of passes/permits to work in provinces other than their province of origin as documented in the Household Registration System. People who worked outside their registered geographical area would not qualify for grain rations, employer-provided housing, and health care in their temporary resident area. In addition, there were controls over education, employment, and marriage through the Household Registration System. Three decades of migration control was followed by an attitude of acquiescence in the 1980s and the 1990s. When DENG Xiaoping came into power, he initiated the Reform and Opening-Up Policy in 1978. Unlike his precursor MAO Zedong who isolated China from international communities, Deng opened the national gate to the outside world. At the same time, he did not seem to oppose internal migration of people. Neither did he support it. In the 1990s, Chinese economy started to rocket, with a huge influx of foreign investment into urban areas, particularly those on the southeast coast. Like the period of the 1980s, this period saw little, if any, specific policies encouraging or discouraging intracountry migration. Such an attitude of acquiescence, however, differed from a laissez-faire model. On the one hand, mobility of people was only allowed to ensure an adequate supply of low-cost rural workers to a plethora of state-owned businesses in rapidly developing urban regions. On the other hand, restriction of migration was relaxed in order to increase the mobility of skilled workers to serve the economic development in urban areas. The permissive nature of the Government’s manipulative strategy during the 1980s and the 1990s, as well as the massive urban market with abundant job opportunities saw increasing numbers of farmers leave countryside for cities. The new millennium has seen exponential growth in urbanisation and waves of massive populations moving from countryside to cities (see Preface). As migrant

4  The migration context workers have become part and parcel of urban development, the Central Government seems to deliberately encourage and support internal migration in order to boom economic growth. The manipulative strategies in the 2000s seem to favour and facilitate migration. However, these strategies are calculative and never wholehearted. The Central Government facilitates migration only to the extent that the drawback of migration does not outweigh its economic contribution. In this respect, manipulative strategies in the 2000s show favouritism towards urban prosperity and social stability. Since the foundation of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, vicissitudes of Government’s attitudes towards migration are observable. What are the social forces behind these vicissitudes? How do power relations and political ideologies cascade from policy making to social practices? How do policy shifts come to shape the everyday life experiences of floating children and left-behind children? It is these questions to which I turn in the next section. Discussions around these questions focus on the period from the late 1990s onwards – an era when floating children and left-behind children become increasingly visible in the public sphere and receive growing attention from mass media, government policy, and research projects.

Power, policy, and participation: floating children and left-behind children in an era of large-scale migration The centralised regime and the hierachical system of China consecrate the political power of the Central Govenrment. Since the 1990s, the Cetral Government has completed three transitions, from the Government of JIANG Zemin (1993– 2003), through the Government of HU Jintao (2003–2013), to the current Government of XI Jinping (2013 conituning). Each Government has constructed an idiosyncratic identity through a set of official statements that reify the Government’s idological core. Specifically, Jiang’s Govenrment advocated the ‘Three Represents’, Hu’s Government accentuated the ‘Scientific Outlook on Development’, and Xi’s Government is working diligently to realise the ‘Chinese Dream’. Due to the political power of the Central Government, these statements come to shape policy making at the macro level and social practice at the micro-level. In this respect, the symbolic power of the statements cascades from ideology, through policy, to practice. In this section, I analyse how successive ideological reworkings influence the directives of migration and education policy, and then shape the everyday life experiences of floating children and left-behind children, inter alia, social praxes of these children in the educational domain.

Government transitions and ideological reworkings: Three Represents, Scientific Outlook on Development, and the Chinese Dream Ideology is a set of ideals, visions, values, beliefs, principles, doctrines, or laws defined by a dominant group, class, or institution to explain how society should

The migration context 5 work in line with a certain social order. Due to the power of the ruling class, ideology imposes on contemporaries as a set of universal “truths”. Having said that, ideology is never eternal as it only reflects the interests of the ruling class at a particular time in history. The temporal effect means that ideology shifts with historical time. In this section, I illuminate the shifts of political ideologies during the Chinese government transitions. On 8 November 2002 at the 16th National Congress of the Communist Party of China, the former president Jiang Zemin’s presented his work report (Political Bureau of Central Committee, 2013, p. 519): The experience and the historical experiences gained by the Party since its founding can be summarised as follows: Our Party must always represent the requirements for developing China’s advanced productive forces, the orientation of China’s advanced culture, and the fundamental interests of the overwhelming majority of the Chinese people. These are the inexorable requirements for maintaining and developing socialism, and the logical conclusion that our Party has reached through hard exploration and great praxis. In his report, Jiang attributed the Party’s success to its representativeness in three domains: (1) the advanced social productive forces, (2) the progressive course of China’s advanced culture, and (3) the fundamental interests of the majority. These three domains are referred to as the Three Represents in the Selected Works of Jiang Zeming Volume III (Political Bureau of Central Committee, 2013, pp. 1–2): A review of our Party’s 70-plus-year history elicits an important conclusion: our Party earned the people’s support during the historical periods of revolution, construction, and reform because it has always represented the requirements for developing China’s advanced productive forces, the orientation of China’s advanced culture, and the fundamental interests of the overwhelming majority of the Chinese people . . . How our Party can better effectuate the Three Represents under new historical conditions is a major issue that all Party comrades, especially high-ranking Party cadres, must consider deeply. To put simply, each ‘Represent’ has a different connotation. First and foremost, the development of advanced productive forces connotes economic production. Economic development was placed as top priority on the Party’s and the Central Government’s agenda. Second, the orientation of advanced culture connotes cultural development, that is, the further development of mainstream, middle class, socialist culture. Third, the fundamental interests of the overwhelming majority connotes the principle of political consensus. Ensureing the fundamental intersts of the majority does not necessarily lead up to equity. In sociological terms, however, the interests of the majority often manifest the discourses of the powerful. Consistent with his precursor Deng, Jiang placed economic development

6  The migration context at the core of the Government’s and the Party’s work. Jiang’s Three Represents were not clearly defined until his term was about to end. In this vein, the Three Represents functioned as an overarching summary and an abstract distillation of Jiangism. Different from his precursor Jiang Zemin, Hu Jintao urgently asserted his political stature when he came into power. Apparently, he did not want to define Huism when his position of power started to dwindle. On 28 July 2003 at the 17th National Congress of the Communist Party of China, Hu claimed his ideology as the Scientific Outlook on Development, incorporating scientific socialism, sustainable development, social welfare, democracy, humanism, and ultimately a societal harmony. These ideological discourses reflected a departure from Jiang’s Three Represents. The Scientific Outlook on Development responded to the social problems resulting from the economy-oriented Jiangism and the overemphasis on marketisation that had favoured wealthier, coastal provinces and urban spaces, but further marginalised the inland, remote, and rural areas. Aiming to create a harmonious society, the Scientific Outlook on Development was identified as a people-oriented approach (Fewsmith, 2004), putting more emphasis on the masses rather than the elites (Shambaugh, 2008). In simple words, it subscribed to a more populist ideology. Such an ideology does not necessarily mean overlooking economic growth. Rather, Hu’s Scientific Outlook on Development suggests a holistic perspective, giving equal weight to both social and economic domains. After Hu stepped down from his presidency, Xi Jinping assumed the reign of the Party and the Central Government. On 17 March 2013 at the first session of the 12th National People’s Congress, Xi delivered his inaugural address and repeatedly used the term ‘Chinese Dream’. This term later became the hallmark of his administration. Xi described the Chinese Dream as the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation. The goals of the Chinese Dream, according to Xi, are to transform China, first, into a moderately well-off society by 2021 – the 100th anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party, and then into a fully developed nation by 2049 – the 100th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China. The achievement of the former would mean all Chinese citizens, whether rural or urban, enjoying a high standard of living, high quality of life, and high status of wellbeing. The achievement of the latter would mean China regaining its leadership in world economy, science, and technology; and revitalising its civilisation, culture, and military might. Since 2013, the term ‘Chinese Dream’ has become widespread in official announcements, media reports, and government policies as a lexicon that embodies the political ideology of Xi’s leadership. By virtue of the Chinese Dream, Xism intends to dissolve a pethora of oppositions between elitism and populism, and develop a collective pathway to communal prosperity of the country of China, of the Chinese Nation, and of the Chinese people. The government and leadership transitions over the past three decades have seen ideological reworkings, from the emphsis on economic growth in Jiang’s Three Represents, through the populist roadmap in Hu’s Scientific Outlook

The migration context 7 on Development, to Xi’s collective approach to the Chinese Dream. Questions remain, however, in terms of how ideological reworkings come to inform policy making, and ultimately the life experiences of citizens, floating children and left-behind children in particular. To address this questions, I now proceed to a discussion of policies relevant to the wellbeing and schooling of floating children and left-behind children. I organise these policities in a chronological order: (1) during the 1990s (Jiang’s Government), (2) from the early 2000s to 2013 (Hu’s Government), and (3) since 2013 onwards (Xi’s Government). The chronological analysis takes in a diachronic, rather than a synchronic, perspective. It will soon become clear in the next section how policy making over time has mirrored a historically arbitrary political interest – “a historical construction that can be known only through historical analysis, ex post, through emprical observation” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 116).

Policies in the 1990s: institutional discrimination against floating children In the early 1990s, the United Nations (1990) signed off the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, calling for respecting and ensuring children’s rights. This call was immediately echoed in China. The National People’s Congress (1991) and the State Council (1992) promulgated the “未成年人保 护法” (Law of Protection of Minors) and the “九十年代中国儿童发展规划纲要” (Guidelines for Child Development in China in the 1990s) respectively. The Guidelines defined the protection of educational rights and the promotion of wellbeing of disadvantaged children as key national objectives for child development, but there was no mention of floating children or left-behind children in the Guidelines. This is because the early 1990s had not yet seen a large-scale internal migration, and hence floating children and left-behind children had not yet become phenomenal. By the end of the 1990s, rural-to-urban migration had significantly raised urban population to a degree that went way beyond the civic and service capacity of cities, particularly large cities such as Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou. In the educational domain, public schools in these cities became overloaded with the responsibility of providing educational services to floating children who moved to cities with their migrant parents. In response to the rapid expansion of urbanisation and the inadequate social resources to cope with such expansion, the Ministry of Public Security (1998) published the “关于解决当前户口管理 工作中几个突出问题意见的通知” (Circular on Solving a Few Key Problems in the Current Management of Household Registration). Although the Circular did not discourage internal migration in general, it placed strict constraint on the population growth in large cities, intending to unshackle large cities from being overloaded with population. The Ministry of Education (1998) chimed in with the Circular and promulgated the “流动儿童少年就学暂行办法” (Interim Regulations for School Admission of Floating Children). The Regulations explicitly stated that migrant-sending

8  The migration context governments should place strict limit on the outbound mobility of school-aged children and migrant-receiving governments were not responsible for the schooling of floating children unless required caregiving provision was not possible for these children in their rural hometown. The Regulations approved urban public schools to apply extra charge for their provision of educational services to floating children. The extra fees, however, were often not affordable to migrant parents who engaged in low-paid jobs (Mu & Jia, 2016). The complicity between the Circular and the Regulations is conspicuous. The former gave the latter an excuse to discourage educational participation of floating children in large cities. The latter created institutional barriers for floating children to access urban public schools and forged an invisible fortress that kept migrant parents and their child(ren) out of cities, particularly large cities, and hence contributed to urban population control required by the former. Working in tandem with these policy directives, migrant-sending governments did not encourage parents to move with their child(ren) and migrant-receiving governments did not welcome floating children. In this respect, policy directives in the 1990s seemed to deliberately create structural and economic barriers for migrant families in order to relieve the burden of large cities. These policies implicitly forced migrant parents to either choose smaller cities as their migration destination where public schooling for floating children was less inaccessible, or leave their child(ren) behind in rural communities when they moved to large cities. The policies institutionalised social discrimination against migrant parents and floating children. Government officials, school professionals, student parents, and community neighbours in cities often held negative attitudes towards migrants and floating children, considering rural people to be inferior, whether socially, economically, culturally, or educationally. Although migrant parents markedly contributed to the economic prosperity of cities, they and their children were deprived of legitimate urban citizenship. While local governments enjoyed the benefits of economic growth brought about by cheap labour, they were reluctant to share local resources with the “outsiders”. Although educational investment in floating children would contribute to social prosperity, cohesion, and mobility in the long run, local governments were largely uninterested in any investment without immediate payback. Such a calculative approach to policy making mirrored the economy-based political ideology in the 1990s that urged governments at various levels to work with a “capitalist” model rather than a social justice model. Due to institutionalised social discrimination, floating children were often othered, marginalised, and placed at a disadvantaged social position in cities. Since floating children were often made “unqualified” to access urban public schools, many floating children were educated in migrant-sponsored schools. Although tuition fees charged by migrant-sponsored schools were reasonably low and affordable to most migrant parents, these schools were operated on the basis of poor teacher quality and scarce educational resources. Many floating children in the 1990s suffered doubly, first from limited access to urban public schools, and, second, from grossly substandard education in migrant-sponsored schools.

The migration context 9 Given the disadvantaged position of floating children in cities, many migrant parents chose to leave their children behind in rural communities. Nevertheless, the conditions of left-behind children were no better. They were plagued by growing up without living with birth parents. The social problem associated with leftbehind children, though significant, did not receive much attention during the 1990s. After all, leaving out left-behind children would not undermine economic growth – the top priority of the then Central Government.

Policy making during the period from the early 2000s to 2013: do-gooder approach to floating children and left-behind children The new millennium saw an even larger scale of internal migration and hence a larger population of floating children migrating to cities with their parents. Resultantly, floating children received much policy attention in this period. The State Council (2001a) promulgated the “中国儿童发展纲要2001–2010” (Guidelines for Child Development in China 2001–2010). Different from the Guidelines for Child Development in China in the 1990s (State Council, 1992), where there was no mention of floating children, the updated Guidelines started to recognise the urgency to promote the wellbeing of floating children and address their health needs in the context of internal migration. To address the educational needs and protect the educational rights of floating children, the Guidelines identified one of the key national child development objectives as ensuring the access to compulsory education of most floating children, and called for the improvement of school admission system for these children. Aiming to ensure the access to compulsory education of most, not all, floating children, the Guidelines were more suggestive than imperative, leaving enough flexible space for policy making where addressing the needs of floating children often became a rhetoric rather than a wholehearted will to make a difference. Surprisingly, there was still no mention of left-behind children in the Guidelines. In the same year, the State Council (2001b) promulgated the “关于基础教育 改革与发展的决定” (Decision on the Reform and Development of Basic Education), requiring migrant-receiving governments to play a leadership role in providing compulsory education to floating children, with the public school system accommodating most floating children. This requirement later was called the “两为主政策” (Two Major Solutions Policy), which considered two agencies – migrant-receiving governments and public schools – to be responsible for providing educational services to floating children. Compared with previous ones that discouraged the admission of floating children to urban public schools, the Two Major Solutions Policy was a big step forward towards the public schooling of floating children in cities. The policy was further reinforced by the promulgation of the “关于进一步做好进城务工就业农民子女义务教育工作意见的通知” (Circular on Further Improving the Compulsory Education of Floating Children) (State Council, 2003). The Circular once again urged migrant-receiving governments to shoulder the responsibility of providing compulsory education to floating children in public schools. As the original Compulsory Education Law (1986)

10  The migration context had no mention of floating children, the National People’s Congress (2006) in the revised Compulsory Education Law accentuated equal educational rights of floating children and authorised migrant-receiving governments to make corresponding policies. This was the first ever time that migrant-receiving governments were required by law to address the educational rights of floating children. Nevertheless, left-behind children remained overlooked in policy documents. In the “国家中长期教育改革和发展规划纲要2010–2020年” (State Guidelines for Medium- and Long-term Education Reform and Development Plan 2010– 2020), the State Council (2010) commendably located previous policy gaps and called for policy support for floating children’s participation in entrance examinations to senior high school and university in migrant-receiving cities. A note of background information is in order here. The nine-year compulsory education is followed by a selective entrance examination to senior high school, the graduates of which then become candidates for the national entrance examination to university. Student examinees are required to attend these examinations in their place of origin as documented in the Household Registration System. Consequently, floating children are not eligible for participation in these examinations in their host cities. Some floating children choose to leave school after completing their nine-year compulsory education. Others who plan to continue their education have to return to their rural hometown for the entrance examination to senior high school, and resultantly become left-behind children. Many have to return to their rural hometown soon after they complete primary school in cities because learning through the local curriculum during junior high school years would enhance their odds of success in the local entrance examination to senior high school. However, the sooner they return to their rural hometown, the earlier they become left-behind children. Over the years, the examination participation policy has astutely worked in complicity with the Household Registration System and successfully discouraged floating children to continue their education in cities. It was against this backdrop that the State Guidelines called for a change. In addition, the State Guidelines urged local governments and communities to develop and improve service provision systems and dynamic monitor mechanisms to promote the wellbeing of leftbehind children. The State Guidelines also urged to expedite the construction of boarding schools in rural areas, with the priority to address the boarding needs of left-behind children. After having been absent in the policy documents for a long time, left-behind children finally came to the fore of government agenda. The policy directives remain consistent in the “中国儿童发展纲要2011–2020” (Guidelines for Child Development in China 2011–2020) (State Council, 2011). Different from the previous two Guidelines for Child Development (State Council, 1992, 2001a), the most recent Guidelines strongly aligned with the inclusive discourse and clearly defined one primary principle of child development in China as ensuring equal rights and opportunities for all children irrespective of household registration, geographical location, gender, ethnicity, religion, educational background, health condition, and socioeconomic status. The Guidelines aimed to ensure access to public services of most floating children and left-behind children.

The migration context 11 Some key objectives of the Guidelines targeted the wellbeing of floating children, seen in reducing the death rate of floating children under the age of five, including floating children in the health management system of cities, creating opportunities for floating children to access kindergarten in cities, protecting the equal educational rights of floating children through the Two Major Solutions Policy, and expediting policy making to support floating children’s participation in senior high school entrance examination in host cities. On the side of left-behind children, the Guidelines urged local governments to expedite the construction of boarding schools in rural areas, with the priority to address the boarding needs of left-behind children; and improve service provision to left-behind children (e.g., psychological counselling services). Different from the policy making in the 1990s, that between the early 2000s and 2013 started to favour floating children and left-behind children, the largest two groups of disadvantaged children in contemporary China. Despite the multilayered and inter-nested reasons behind such policy shifts, I argue that these policy shifts largely mirror the ideological reworkings during government transition. While Jiang’s Three Represents were predominantly built on the grounds of economic development, Hu’s Scientific Outlook on Development aimed to establish a harmonious society where all citizens, floating children and left-behind children included, were created equal. With the hand-over of the sovereign power from Jiang to Hu, the ideological core was reworked, shifting from a more calculative capitalist model to a more social populist model. These shifts were immediately captured by policy makers, seen in their policy discourses as more favourable to floating children and left-behind children, and hence more accordant with discourses of social equity and harmony. In this vein, it is hard to empirically dispute the infiltration of ideological reworking into policy remaking. Policies during this period adopted a do-gooder approach to improving the conditions of floating children and left-behind children. Access to public schools became less inaccessible to floating children. Disrespect and misrecognition of rural culture became less common. Many schools started to construct a more welcoming and inclusive campus culture for floating children. Unity-within-diversity and togetherness-of-difference became part and parcel of a harmonious society. Social work for the sake of left-behind children emerged. There was a budding line of community-based programs and philanthropic projects to address the needs of left-behind children. The populist ideology and the social equity policy discourses in the new millennium saw a do-gooder approach to the wellbeing and schooling of floating children and left-behind children. The then Premier WEN Jiabao once inscribed, “All children, whether floating or left behind, should share the same blue sky”.

Policy making since 2013 onwards: favouritism towards left-behind children Since Xi came into power in 2013, the Central Government has been working diligently to realise the Chinese Dream, with the ultimate goal to achieve

12  The migration context national prosperity. This requires a collective enterprise of the whole country – the rural and the urban, large cities and small ones. To this end, the State Council (2014b), in its “国家新型城镇化规划” (National Plan on New Urbanisation), strongly encouraged the development of medium- and small-sized cities to unshackle metropolises and megacities from being overloaded with too many functions. The Political Bureau of Central Committee (2015) soon echoed the call of the State Council in the “津冀协同发展规划纲要” (Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei Collaborative Development Plan). The Plan aims to unload excessive functions of the capital city of Beijing. It clearly defines Beijing as the political, cultural, international communication, and scientific innovation centre of the country, but not the economic centre of the country. The Plan requires strict control of the population in Beijing. Since the promulgation of the Plan, many manufacture industries have been moved to city outskirts, and many large-scale wholesale markets have been removed. Resultantly, a massive population of migrant workers in Beijing lost their jobs, some having to relocate in smaller cities. The new urbanisation strategy intends to push migrant workers out of megacities and redirect them to smaller cities. These relocations would mean that some floating children have to be sent back to rural communities and become left-behind children. The State Council seemed to be well prepared for the growing population of left-behind children and promulgated a series of policies to address the needs of these children. In the “国家新型城镇化规划” (National Plan on New Urbanisation), the State Council (2014b) reiterated the Guidelines for Child Development in China 2011–2020, with particular regard to the construction of boarding schools in rural areas to address the boarding needs of left-behind children and the improvement of community service provided to leftbehind children. In the “国务院关于加强农村留守儿童关爱保护工作的意见” (State Council’s Advice on Strengthening the Caring and Protection of Left-behind Children in Rural China), the State Council (2016) identified two key aspects of social work for left-behind children: (1) the improvement of caring and service system and (2) the establishment of aiding and protection system. Specifically, the State Council required to strengthen family’s accountability in providing proper guidance and caregiving to left-behind children; promulgate law-based policies to guide and monitor family guardianship and caregiving; clarify the responsibility of the government and the family; urge migrant parents to perform their statutory guardianship even when they have already left their children behind in rural communities; encourage and support migrant parents to seek employment opportunities or establish businesses in their rural hometown; establish aiding and protection systems (e.g., reporting, emergency management, evaluation, supervision, and intervention) to prevent left-behind children from maltreatment, living alone, or dropping out of school; and construct an integrative caring and service system that consists family, government, school, and community support. What is worthy of particular notice is the Central Government’s intention to encourage and support returning migrant workers. Theoretically, this policy will reduce the population of both floating children and left-behind children and hence have potential to become an ideal solution once and for all.

The migration context 13 While policy making for the sake of left-behind children has prevailed since 2013, policy voices for the benefit of floating children sound paler during this period of time. In the “关于进一步完善城乡义务教育经费保障机制的通知” (Circular on Further Improvement of Urban and Rural Compulsory Education Funding System), the State Council (2015) implemented the “两免一补政策” (Two Waivers and One Subsidy Policy), that is, waiving the tuition fee and textbook fee of school-aged children and subsidising economically disadvantaged boarding students. The Circular also defined the annual government subsidy per student as RMB 600 – a transferrable fund when students move across school jurisdictions. The transferrable subsidy policy is commendable because it aims to financially support public schools in cities to accept floating children. Having said that, the amount of the transferrable fund is nominal when compared to the non-transferrable annual government expenditure per student, which is RMB 11,272.7 for primary schooling and RMB 15,466.2 for secondary schooling according to the Ministry of Education (2016). Although floating children do not physically study in their place of origin as documented in the Household Registration System, schools in their place of origin may still receive the non-transferrable educational fund from the local government. This is because the non-transferrable fund is budgeted on the basis of the Household Registration System and allocated according to the number of school-aged children officially registered in each school jurisdiction. Resultantly, migrant-sending governments have extra educational funds when floating children move to cities whereas migrant-receiving governments have deficit in educational funds when they receive floating children. In this respect, the Two Waivers and One Subside Policy, though welcome and commendable, is unlikely to make a fundamental difference to the schooling of floating children. The Central Government has been very aware that being floating and left behind are two equally risky factors to child development. In a situation where there is no better way to address the needs of both floating children and leftbehind children, the Central Government has to choose to focus on only one of the two equally threatening factors. The latter group, the left-behind children, was favoured because such a choice more aligns with the political ideology of the Chinese Dream and the strategic policy of new urbanisation. Nevertheless, this choice fails to counteract both threatening factors. The choice, though disappointing, is not surprising as it once again evidences the complicity between power and policy. To decipher the matrix of political power, policy making, and social participation, I now proceed to have recourse to the French Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu’s field theory.

A sociological interpretation: cross-field effects and three-level field analysis Ideological working and reworking, policy making and remaking, as well as educational praxes occur in different but interrelated social spaces. These social spaces are what Bourdieu means by field. Political ideologies emerge from the

14  The migration context field of power, policy directives grow out of the field of policy, and educational praxes occur in the field of education. Bourdieu used different wordings to conceptualise the field and employed different metaphors to give a first intuitive grasp of the meaning of field, e.g., the sports metaphor – “the analogy of a game” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 98) and the physics metaphor – “a force field” (Bourdieu, 2011, p. 40). A classic and widely cited definition was offered as follows (2011, pp. 40–41): A field is a structured social space, a field of forces, a force field. It contains people who dominate and people who are dominated. Constant, permanent relationships of inequality operate inside this space, which at the same time becomes a space in which various actors struggle for the transformation or preservation of the field. All the individuals in this universe bring to the competition all the relative power at their disposal. It is this power that defines their position in the field and, as a result, their strategies. Within the field of power, Jiang (1993–2003), Hu (2003–2013), and Xi (2013 onwards) are the dominant agents in their own times. Each of them has strategised to secure their social position and social power at the top of the political hierarchy. To this end, they bring to the power competition all the crucial resources at their disposal. These resources are what Bourdieu means by capital – the credit “granted to those who have obtained sufficient recognition to be in a position to impose recognition” (Bourdieu, 1990a, p. 138). Capital manifests in different but inter-convertible forms (Bourdieu, 1986) – economic capital (e.g., money, property), cultural capital (e.g., objectified cultural goods such as books and artefacts; embodied cultural dispositions such as culturally appropriate and socially recognised knowledge, competence, corporeal deportment, and cognitive schemata; institutionalised cultural qualifications, credentials, titles, and standings), social capital (e.g., strategic networking with significant others, and actual and potential access to valued resources), and symbolic capital (e.g., recognition, prestige, honour, reputation, and superiority granted by others). By virtue of a configuration of different forms of capitals, Jiang, Hu, and Xi wield their symbolic power, first to transform the political ideology of their precursor’s government, and second to preserve the political ideology of their own government. In other words, they draw on capital to purse a particular ideology of interest to the field of power. The ideology defines different goals of the political game within the field of power, shifting historically from Jiang’s Three Represents, through Hu’s Scientific Outlook on Development, to Xi’s Chinese Dream. The ideological shifts can be understood through Bourdieu’s notion of illusio – the specific interest “both presupposed and produced by the functioning of historically delimited fields” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 115). When Jiang, Hu, and Xi successively reigned, each of them drew on symbolic power and successfully justified their idiosyncratic ideology worth investing and of interest to the political game. As Bourdieu and Wacquant (1992, p. 116) described, “To be interested is to accord a given social game that what happens in it matters, that

The migration context 15 its stakes are important (another word with the same root of interest) and worth pursing”. Therefore, political ideologies do not come into being by themselves as such. Instead, they are purposefully and strategically constructed through a rigorous design and elaborate engineering. When Bourdieu (1998) discussed in On Television about the influence of the field of journalism in France, key concerns were to decrypt the matrix of the internal modes within this field and to reveal its effects on other fields. According to this Bourdieusian concern, it would be empirically superficial at best and conceptually misleading and epistemologically erroneous at worst to analyse political ideologies simply by focusing on the utterances and discourses as such. Instead, such analysis merits much deliberation of the inner working within and across social fields from which ideologies are produced and for which ideologies are prescribed. In other words, to decipher the configuration of the field of power is essential but not enough. Equally important is the analysis of the relations of the field of power to the broader field of social positions and processes. It is crucial to deviate from the internal analysis of the field of power, despite the fact that such analysis is commonplace in academic literature as exemplified by the prevailing discourse/document/content analysis applied to political ideologies. Drawing insight from Bourdieu’s approach, I argue that an adequate analysis of political ideologies necessitates a systematic reconstruction of the field of power within which ideologies are engendered, and a sociological discussion of the relations of this field to other social fields within which ideologies are received and reified.

Cross-field effects amongst the fields of power, policy, and education The fields of power, policy, and education are distinctive to one another as autonomous social spaces composed of different illusio/interests and positioning rules, as well as different competing agents with different forms, quantities, and qualities of capital. The autonomy of fields does not necessarily mean that fields are independent of one another. In contrast, they are interrelated, as I have argued earlier. Their relations are what Lingard and Rawolle (2004) mean by cross-field effects, namely structural, event, systemic, temporal, and hierarchical/vertical effects across different fields. I now proceed to discuss the cross-field effects amongst the field of power, the field of policy, and the field of education. These effects are summarised in Figure 1.1. The political regime and the social system of China are highly centralised, with a top-down working mechanism. Therefore, hierarchical and vertical effects are observable across the fields of power, policy, and education. Such effects denote “the regular direction of effects” across fields “that hold different positions relative to one another” due to “asymmetrical structural links” that connect these fields (Lingard & Rawolle, 2004, p. 369). As a service-based field, the field of education is largely dependent on the field of policy where governments at various levels (central, provincial, prefectural, county, and township) monitor, oversee, direct, evaluate, and support educational development through regulations, guidelines, standardisations, program designing, as well as budgeting and

School system becomes less attentive to floating children. Leftbehind children are placed at the fore of educational debates.

Ambitious goal-oriented policy making Collective enterprise of country, nation, and people Implicit nonfeasance toward floating children Explicit attention to left-behind children

Xism (2013 onwards) Chinese Dream Collectivist approach Rejuvenation of the Chinese nation

Event effect: The broader context of urbanisation and internal migration

Public schools became less inaccessible to floating children. Left-behind children came to the fore of educational debates.

Figure 1.1 Power, policy, and practice: cross-field effects

Hierarchical/vertical effect: Power, policy, and education

Floating children were marginalised and placed at a disadvantage in the school system. Left-behind children were inadvertently left out.

Field of education

Policy discourses of social equity and cohesion Emphasis on masses not elites to reduce inequalities Structural support to floating children Left-behind children on the government agenda

Field of policy

Huism (2003-2013) Scientific Outlook on Development Populist approach Harmonious society

Field of power

Investment-wise approach to policy making Economic priority over other social concerns Institutional discrimination against floating children Structural ignorance of left-behind children

Jiangism (1993-2003) Three Represents Capitalist approach Economic growth as top priority

Temporal effect: Government transitions

Systemic effect: Ideological reworking, policy remaking, and educational praxis

The migration context 17 funding. In other words, educational policies produced in the field of policy are prescribed for educational practices in the field of education. Similarly, the field of policy is dependent on the field of power where political ideologies are produced. That is, political ideology command policy making, and policy directives are manifestations of political ideologies. It would be empirically wrong, however, to claim that there is no bottom-up effect pushing up from the field of education to the fields of policy and power. Indeed, the field of education often calls for responsive policy making to grapple with educational conundrums in mundane contexts. Having said that, educational policies are more directly framed by politicians within the field of power rather than bureaucrats and policy makers in the field of policy or educational professionals in the field of education (Lingard & Rawolle, 2004). Consequently, hierarchical/vertical effects cascading from the field of power, through the field of policy, to the field of education are more commonly observable, particularly in the centralised Chinese social system where there are asymmetrical relations connecting these fields. Highly relevant to the hierarchical/vertical effects are structural effects that designate varying degrees of imposition of “the logics of practice of one field over others” (Lingard & Rawolle, 2004, p. 368). The field of policy is structurally affected by the field of power because it deconstructs the illusio of the field of power through corresponding policy making. Concurrently, it structurally affects the field of education because educational reforms and practices are largely policydriven, and the effectiveness of educational policy largely decides the outcomes of educational reforms and practices. As argued earlier, the structural effects across the fields of power, policy, and education are seen in the consistent interests and logics amongst these fields. It is noteworthy that structural effects are often imposed by a more powerful field on a less powerful one, and this holds true in the centralised Chinese system. In this vein, the structural effects are operated through a form of symbolic violence. Before I proceed to discuss the next form of cross-field effect, I want to pause a moment to discuss symbolic violence and its relation to structural effects. Symbolic violence is referred to as “gentle, invisible violence, unrecognised as such, chosen as much as undergone, that of trust, obligation, personal loyalty, hospitality, gifts, debts, piety, in a word, of all the virtues honoured by the ethic of honour” (Bourdieu, 1990b, p. 127). It “enables relations of domination to be established and maintained through strategies which are softened and disguised, and which conceal domination beneath the veil of an enchanted relation” (Bourdieu, 1991, p. 24). Different from explicit monopoly and dominance of legitimate use of ‘physical force’ (Weber, 2009) and ‘discipline’ (Foucault, 1995), symbolic violence operates in a much more subtle manner through ideologies, values, and policy texts such as those underpinning structural effects across the fields of power, policy, and education. In this respect, it is easier to revolt against explicit forms of violence (e.g., physical force and discipline) than symbolic violence, as the latter is “something you absorb like air, something you don’t feel pressured by”, something that is “everywhere and nowhere”, and hence something that is difficult to escape from (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 115). With

18  The migration context the mechanism of symbolic violence, the imposition of structural effects across fields indeed formulates the violence that is more soft and invisible, taking “the form of a more effective, and in this sense more brutal, means of oppression” (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 115). It is an almost magical oppression that enables dominant agents to obtain the equivalent of what is obtained through physical force or discipline. Through the notion of symbolic violence, the unperceived form of violence of structural effects is made more visible, foreseeable, and sensible. Reverting to the discussion of cross-field effects, systemic effects are also observable across the fields of power, policy, and education. Lingard and Rawolle (2004, p. 369) define systemic effects as “broad changes in the values underpinning social fields”. With government transitions over the years, different values of the fields of power, policy, and education have evolved. The capitalism of Jiang’s Government, populism of Hu’s Government, and collectivism of Xi’s Government qualitatively differ from one another. Mirroring the oscillating values/ ideologies of the Central Government, policy making has successively followed approaches to economic growth, social equity, and national prosperity. Policies in a certain time can favour floating children and/or left-behind children, whereas policies institutionally place these children at a disadvantage in another time. Of course, there are economic and political reasons behind these oscillations, but at the sociological level, such oscillations are imposed by an arbitrary power. To put it simply, the imposition is exercised through symbolic power – a power “of making people see and believe, of confirming or transforming the vision of the world and, thereby, action on the world and thus the world itself” (Bourdieu, 1991, p. 170). It is a power that presupposes recognition and hence misrecognition of symbolic violence as arbitrary (Bourdieu, 1991). What creates the systemic effects across the fields of policy, power, and education are the asymmetrical relations connecting these fields, and the very structure of these fields in which ideologies, policies, and practices are produced and accepted as legitimate. It is this very legitimacy that creates the symbolic power of political ideologies, policy directives, and normative practices as capable of maintaining or transforming the social order. Apart from systemic effects, broad changes in the values underpinning the fields of power, policy, and education demonstrate time effects, or temporal effects that refer to “those limited in duration” (Lingard & Rawolle, 2004, p. 369). A particular value, interest, or logic is only valid for a certain period of time. A new government, in order to distinguish itself from its precursor, often redesigns an agenda, blueprint, or hallmark that is qualitatively different from previous ones. As the pendulum swinging to and fro, an underpinning value is of interest only to its own time. The value change has been clearly seen in the shifts of political ideologies, policy discourses, and educational practices during Chinese government transitions over historical time. Despite the shifting values over time, the fields of power, policy, and education can grapple with the same social phenomenon. Of particular relevance here is the growing urbanisation and internal migration that create event effects across these

The migration context 19 fields. To clarify, event effects are “specific occurrences whose impacts cascade between fields” (Lingard & Rawolle, 2004, p. 368). Over the decades, urbanisation and internal migration have become a particular case or event that gains attention from multiple fields. Although Lingard and Rawolle (2004) argue that very few event effects have substantive impacts that last long, effects of urbanisation and internal migration have been ongoing in the fields of power, policy, and education in China.

A three-level field analysis: power, politics, and participation In the previous section, I have discussed the dynamic connections of the fields of power, policy, and education by looking at different classifications of cross-field effects. These fields are coextensive with one another through a set of multilayered, inter-nested relations, whether hierarchical, structural, systemic, eventful, or temporal. The analysis of cross-field effects strongly aligns with Bourdieu’s assertion to discuss the structural topography of a field in relation to other fields, in particularly the recognised field of power (e.g., the political power of government). Despite the necessity to analyse a field in relation to other fields, the portrayal of a particular field remains incomplete without also looking at agents’ relative positions and their associated dispositions in this field. To portray a penetrating panorama of the inner workings and politics within a field and its relational field(s), Bourdieu has crafted a powerful theoretical-analytical apparatus that “involves three necessary and internally connected moments” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, pp. 104–105). This apparatus was later summarised by Grenfell (2014, p. 25) as “three-level field analysis”. The apparatus is particularly useful when coming to grips with empirical problems in mutually infiltrating and sustaining social fields. Level one analysis grapples with the relations between fields, specifically the relations between the field under investigation and the field of power. It looks at the relative position of the field to/within the field of power. Level two analysis wades into the objective structure of the power relations between agents who compete for favourable positions and legitimate forms of authority within the field. It looks at the quality, quantity, and configurations of different forms of capital captured by agents and the exchange value of capitals within the field. Relative positions of agents within a field, which are objectively defined by the amount of capital occupied by agents, govern their success in the field and their winning of profits at stake in the field. However, agents do not take positions haphazardly. Instead, they take the positions that they “are predisposed to take on the basis of their position in a certain field” (Bourdieu, 1993, p. 154). Such a predisposition to position-taking is what Bourdieu (2000, p. 184) means by habitus – a practical, emobided knowledge of one’s present and potential position in the field, “a sense of one’s place . . . converted into a sense of placement”, that is, the “experience of the place occupied, defined absolutely and above all relationally as a rank, and the way to behave in order to keep it (‘pulling rank’) and to keep within it (‘knowing one’s place’, etc.)”. To deconstruct the formation of

20  The migration context strcutures that underpins one’s being, thinking, and doing in a field, level three analysis takes stock of one’s habitus in the field. It looks at how objective limits – capital-defined positions in a field – are transformed into, and interactive with, a subjective practical anticipation of objective limits – habitus-oriented positiontakings in the field. In the previous section, I have looked at the cross-field effects and completed level one field analysis – the field of education in relation to the fields of policy and power. I now proceed to undertake level two and level three field analyses. At the core of these analyses are floating children and left-behind children. For level two analysis, I look at the quality, quantity, and configuration of capitals occupied by these children, or lack thereof, and discuss the relative social positions of these children in the field of education. Within the field of education, these children and relevant stakeholders (e.g., education policy makers, education government officials, school professionals, and student parents) are agents that constitute the field and struggle and compete with one another over capitals (Bourdieu, 2000). Following level two analysis of the capital-based politics behind field competition, level three analysis focuses on the habitus of floating children and left-behind children and discusses how these children are predisposed to take certain social positions when participating in the games of the field of education.

Level two analysis: capital and social positions A field is a social space of conflict and competition where agents vie, consciously or unconsciously, for species of resources to establish monopoly and claim authority – “cultural authority in the artistic field, scientific authority in the scientific field, sacerdotal authority in the religious field” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 17), and by the same token, educational authority in the school field. In this respect, a field is composed of a structured network or a configuration of objective relationships of inequalities, whether constant or permanent, between different positions of agents (Bourdieu, 1998). These positions, as explained by Bourdieu and Wacquant (1992, p. 97), are objectively defined, in their existence and in the determinations they impose upon their occupants, agents or institutions, by their present and potential situation (situs) in the structure of the distribution of species of power (or capital) whose possession commands access to the specific profits that are at stake in the field, as well as by their objective relations to other positions (domination, subordination, homology, etc.). In order to enter a field, agents are required to capture particular forms and quantities of capital at stake in this field. After entering a field, agents place themselves or are placed by more powerful others in a certain social position defined by the quality and configuration of capitals at agents’ disposal. To enter a public

The migration context 21 school located in a given geographical area, children are supposed to be officially registered residents in this area as documented in their Household Registration Book. The Household Registration Book, issued by government authorities, becomes an institutionalised cultural capital required for children’s admission to a local public school. When floating children move to cities with their migrant parents, their rural Hukou (Household Registration Status) does not qualify for free compulsory education services in urban public schools. Without the required institutionalised cultural capital, urban Hukou in this case, floating children are often deprived of equal educational rights in cities. In order to send floating children to an urban public school, migrant parents have to provide a set of required documents. Different educational authorities may have different policies in regard to the required paperwork for admission of floating children to urban public schools, but these documents commonly include temporary resident permit in the city, work contract, tax payment statement, fixed term rental agreement, and testimonial of no caregiving/guardian competence in rural hometown. All these documents function as institutionalised cultural capital for floating children’s access to public school system in cities. It is recalled that in the Preface, Dongdong’s mum explained the tedious process to prepare for all the required documents. Since many migrant parents were poorly educated themselves, they may not be able to understand the complicated process and figure out what are exactly asked for or how to approach relevant authorities to get the paperwork done. These parents lack socially anticipated knowledge, or embodied cultural capital in Bourdieu’s term, to complete the culturally complex project of sending their child(ren) to urban public schools. In addition, extra fees apply. Since many migrant parents have to engage in low-paid jobs, they are often unable to afford the extra fees. Without the required institutionalised and embodied cultural capital and economic capital, floating children are placed at risk of exclusion from public school systems in cities. Compared to public schools, migrant-sponsored schools are more accessible to floating children. Nevertheless, migrant-sponsored schools often operate on a basis of poor quality of teachers, facilities, and educational resources. Many of these schools are unlicensed. Licensing is not possible unless these schools meet certain national standards for school building, infrastructure, and facility. Short of funds, migrant-sponsored schools often rent dilapidated warehouse and use it as their temporary school building after simple renovations. Since a long-term rental agreement is barely possible, these schools have to get ready for relocation at any time. Operating under precarious conditions, migrant-sponsored schools understandably show little interest in fundraising in order to improve school infrastructure. It is not surprising that these schools often fail to meet the national standards and become unlicensed. Without licensing, they are not eligible for government funding. Without funding, they cannot improve their conditions and have to remain unlicensed. They seem to be trapped into a dead end once and for all. The most disadvantaged schools are at high risk of being closed by government authorities due to safety and quality issues. The reputation

22  The migration context of migrant-sponsored schools stands in stark contrast to public schools. Negative descriptions of migrant-sponsored schools are common. These schools are often referred to as illegal, problematic, and bad schools in the black market. As migrant-sponsored schools are often interpreted with a negative connotation, floating children who study in these schools would be immediately considered to be vulnerable and miserable and hence receive no symbolic capital. Structural obstacles for floating children’s access to free compulsory education in cities and high urban living cost often deter many migrant parents from bringing their child(ren) to live with them in cities. Against this backdrop, these parents have no choice but to leave their child(ren) behind in rural communities. Left-behind children have an equally unfavourable social position in the field of education. Due to their relatively low socioeconomic status, many left-behind children do not have access to sound educational resources enjoyed by their urban counterparts. The nomenclature of left-behind children is also associated with a negative connotation, normally equated with disadvantage. The merits of these children are often overlooked. Similar to floating children, left-behind children receive little symbolic capital. In addition, growing up without birth parents often exposes left-behind children to a dearth of protection against risk factors (e.g., bullying – see Xiaoyang’s experience in the Preface). In this respect, lack of parenting and family support thwarts left-behind children, attenuating their social capital within the domestic milieu. Inadequate domestic social capital shakes the basis of primary pedagogic work. Completed “without any antecedent” (Bourdieu & Passeron, 1990, p. 42) in the domestic milieu, primary pedagogic work is “accomplished in the earliest years of life” (p. 43). Such work includes, inter alia, parental engagement and cultural inculcation, which are largely missing in left-behind children’s family upbringing. Bourdieu and Passeron (1990) seem to believe that “the success of all school education, and more generally of all secondary pedagogic work, depends fundamentally on the education previously accomplished in the earliest years of life” (p. 43). Without robust primary pedagogic work, the odds of school success for left-behind children decrease. Against the structural topography of the field of education, floating children and left-behind children hold a social position of subordination. The subordinate positioning is expressed through their inadequacy of economic, cultural, social, and/or symbolic capital – the recognised and acknowledged currency of exchange used to “buy” favourable social positions. Without a configuration of essential capitals at their disposal and at stake in the field of education, floating children and left-behind children cannot afford to vie for potential opportunities theoretically available to all. When participating in the games of the field of education, these children are often placed at the margin. The defining and generating principles sociologically marginalise these children in the field of education and structurally disadvantage these children. Resultantly, floating children remain floating in cities and left-behind children remain left behind in rural communities. In this respect, the capital portfolio contributes to social reproduction.

The migration context 23

Level three analysis: rurality as habitus Habitus refers to “a system of dispositions, that is of permanent manners of being, seeing, acting and thinking, or a system of long-lasting (rather than permanent) schemes or schemata or structures of perception, conception and action” (Bourdieu, 2005, p. 43). The potential of habitus to remain as lasting structures points to its durability. Such durability “works on the basis of the premises established in the previous state” (Bourdieu, 2000, p. 161). Although habitus is “disproportionally weighted towards the past” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 133), it is conceptually and empirically wrong to interpret habitus through a synchronic analysis of the history itself. Germinating in the past, habitus is deposited within the body and mind as sentiment, deportment, and enactment. The constancy of embodied dispostions over time ensures active presence of past experiences, which have potential to perpetuate themselves into the future. As Bourdieu (1990b, p. 54) argues, habitus is “a product of history” and concurrently “produces individual and collective practices – more history – in accordance with the schemes generated by history”. In simple words, habitus creates a tendency to reproduce the past through socially reusing historical properties deposited within bodies and minds as corporeal and cognitive schemata of perception, appreciation, and action. Born into a rural region and and a rural culture, floating children and leftbehind children are inextricable from a rural history. They may have varied life trajectories for whatever reasons, but the rural history as a form of de facto existence that has happened cannot be elided or made over, or removed or undone, and hence stays with these children all through their life. In this respect, floating children and left-behind children are socialised and enculturated into a habitus of rurality, reified in rural ways of knowing, being, thinking, and doing (Mu & Hu, 2016; Mu & Jia, 2016). Rural mindsets, values, manners, accents, and behaviour patterns are all manifestations of their rural habitus. These embodied rural dispositions are largely visible and readable from the external, and often than not, distinguishable from the urban ones. Since “social identity is defined and asserted through difference” (Bourdieu, 1984, p. 172), rural dispositions formulate and reproduce an identity label – a label of rurality – for floating children and leftbehind children. The fate of a particualr group of social agents may depend on “the words that designate them”, and the way to get recognition depends on their capacity to “mobilise around a name” (Bourdieu, 1984, p. 481). As discussed in level two field analysis, floating children and left-behind chidlren have limited capital at their disposal and little, if any, capacity to mobilise around their identity often designated as disadvantaged children, vulnerable children, and at-risk children. With all these negative identity labels imposed on them, floating children and left-behind children hardly receive any recognition. Their habitus of rurality orients them to an unfavourable social position. When participating in the games within the field of education, floating chidlren and left-behind children often have to submit to the social norms and rules arbitrarily defined by powerful others

24  The migration context according to their own wills and interests. It is the rural habitus that predisposes floating children and left-behind children to taking the position of subordination. As Bourdieu (1984, p. 172) argues, “inevitably inscribed within the dispositions of the habitus is the whole structure of the system of conditions, as it presents itself in the experience of a life-condition occupying a particular position within that structure”. Social stratifications are based on power relations, life politics, and “the interests associated with membership or non-membership” (Bourdieu, 1984, p. 476). For example, powerful legitimate urban citizens (e.g., government officials, school professionals, urban parents and students) often show little interest in legitimising the social membership of floating children. At the macro level, they overrule social equity through power and politics around institution and policy making. Their “pulling rank” creates structural barriers for educational participation of floating children in urban public schools. At the micro level, they arbitrarily devalue the rural habitus of floating children, considering rural accents and behavioural patterns to be inferior, coarse, and out of place in urban public schools (Mu & Hu, 2016; Mu & Jia, 2016). Despite the strident tone of discourses of equity, floating children are othered, out-grouped, and marginalised, and, therefore, certain doors remain locked for them. When power defines social positions and appropriates certain cultural dispositions, those who ought to have been ackowledged for their contributions to social dynamics and cultural diversities are unlikely to be appreciated as such if they are impoverished (e.g., lack of economic capital), alienated from resourceful social networks (e.g., lack of social capital), deprived of institutional access (e.g., lack of cultural capital), and hence labelled as underdog (e.g., lack of symbolic capital) in a “mainstream” society that recognises its own inherited cultural dispositions and perpetuates its own privileged social positions and, therefore, at the same time, devalues the attributes and qualities of others.

A summary of three-level field analysis China is experiencing social tensions and complexities in the post-reform era. Resultantly, no single theory can provide a definite capture of the kaleidoscopic nature of the Chinese society. Rather, each theory works with a unique perspective to understand multiple realities in China. The Bourdieusian three-level field analysis is one of many. In level one analysis, I relate the field of education to the fields of power and policy, looking particularly at how idological reworkings during government transitions are mirrored in the oscillations of migration and education policies, and how policy shifts influence educational practices regarding floating children and left-behind children. The hierachical, structural, systemic, evental, and temporal effects across the fields of power, policy, and education are conspicuous. In level two analysis, I discuss the structural topography of the field of education, looking particularly at the relatively unfavourable positions of floating children and left-behind children. Such positioning is expressed through

The migration context 25 forms and configurations of capitals at stake in the field of education that define what is or is not doable within the field. In level three analysis, I am concerned with the rural dispositions of floating children and left-behind children, with particular regard to how habitus of rurality relates to the logic of practice and the ruling principles of the field of education and how this habitus is depreciated and misrecognised. When explaining the theoretical-methodological tool of three-level field analysis, Bourdieu suggests a top-down approach, beginning with the “highest” level: the relations between the field and to other fields, in particular the field of power; then moving to level two: the structures and positioning rules in the field, with a sharp focus on the unequal distribution of capitals; and concluding with level three: the habitus of social agents under investigation. Yet, it is not uncommon to see social science research using Bourdieu’s three-level field analysis in the opposite direction. For example, in his poststructural approach to the training of modern language teachers, Grenfell (1996) started with habitus analysis through case-studies of students and students’ dispositions gained from their experiences in training to teach modern languages; this was followed by an objective mapping of the field of teacher training in terms of site, time, and agency; the analysis concluded with a discussion of discursive nature of teacher training within the field. The bottom-up, opposite three-level field analysis often overlooks the mapping of any given field where capital is valued and revalued, and habitus is constructed and reconstructed. Without defining the field and its relational fields, it is conceptually problematic to define capital and habitus.

Why resilience matters for floating children and left-behind children Research about left-behind children and floating children remains haunted by deficit discourses. For example, left-behind children, when compared to their “mainstream” peers, are believed to have a less healthy diet and lower rates of physical activity (Yang et al., 2010); lower intake of some nutrients and poorer physical development related to nutrition (Luo et al., 2008); poorer physical health-related quality of life (Jia, Shi, Cao, Delancey, & Tian, 2010); more risk behaviours (e.g., smoking) (Lee, 2011; Yang et al., 2010) and more extreme behaviours (e.g., being withdrawn or aggressive) (L. Li, 2004); more symptoms of depression and anxiety (Biao, 2007; Cheng & Sun, 2015; Qiao, Chen, & Yuan, 2008); stronger senses of feeling abandoned, anguished, suffering, and inferior (S. Liang, 2004; Luo et al., 2008); more selfish, indifferent, and introverted mindset (Lee, 2011; Luo et al., 2008); as well as poorer academic standing, such as lower levels of confidence and interest in learning (W. Liang, Hou, & Chen, 2008), higher levels of academic anxiety (Qiao et al., 2008), and higher risk of school dropout (Y. Gao et al., 2010). The literature portrays floating children in an equally negative way. Compared to their “mainstream” peers, floating children are believed to have lower school attendance rate (Z. Liang & Chen, 2007);

26  The migration context lower age-appropriate immunisation/vaccination rates (Hu, Xiao, Chen, & Sa, 2012; Z. Liang, Guo, & Duan, 2007; Sun et al., 2010); poorer oral health (X.-L. Gao, McGrath, & Lin, 2011); as well as a stronger sense of loneliness and lower self-esteem (X. Li et al., 2010). Recent research on children has seen a paradigmatic shift from a deficit model to a do-gooder approach. The former model was adopted by powerful others who arbitrarily considered floating children and left-behind children to be inferior and misrecognised their rural habitus as an representation of underclass and heterodox culture and dispositions. The latter approach differs, however, in its focus on the disadvantage of floating children and left-behind children and its attempt to fix the problem or correct the anomaly associated with these children, and ultimately improve the condition of these children. But the do-gooder approach does not go withouth its problem. Behind such an approach are the latent, subtle power relations. The do-gooders assume their superiority, agency, and autonomy to make a change and undertake a redemptive salvation, without which floating children and left-behind children would have to remain hopeless, helpless, and useless. The good heart of do-gooders is commendable, but, at the same time, it is inclined to predetermine floating children and left-behind children as defective and deficient and predispose these children to an inferior social postion. Therein lies the danger of the do-gooder approach: It overlooks the merits and potential of floating children and left-behind children, imposes, though inadvertently, power relations on these children, and ultimately reproduces the social structures of domination and subordination. Perhaps even more dangerous is the unconscious legitimation of social reproduction: “I’m a member of social elite, and for God’s sake I was born as a Saviour to help those poor floating children and left-behind children”, or “I’m a floating/left-behind child and this is how my life should be”. Over the years, the taken-for-granted superiority and inferiority have continuously struck me. The self-evident, socially anticipated inner working of the society is what Bourdieu means by doxa – “we accept many things without knowing them” (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 113), “forgetting the limits” that have given rise to unequal divisions in society (Bourdieu, 1984, p. 471). In a doxic state, powerful others (e.g., policy makers, school professionals, urban parents, and urban children) are endowed with learned, ingrained, and unconscious universals, taking their position of dominance as natural, normal, selfevident, and ubiquitously favourable and acceptable without question. There is an equilibrium and harmony between the objective, external structures of the field, and the subjective, internal structures of their habitus. For floating children and left-behind children, however, the doxic state does not necessarily mean happiness. Their adaptation to the stage of doxa would mean “bodily submission, unconscious submission, which may indicate a lot of internalised tension, a lot of bodily suffering” (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 121). They internalise “silent suffering” (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 121) seen in their bodily expressions of diffidence, shyness, and embarrassment. In simple

The migration context 27 words, doxa tends to favour and perpetuate the social orders within the field, thus privileging the dominant and marginalising the dominated. In the contemporary migration context of China, floating children and leftbehind children have long been depicted in media reports, government documents, and social science studies as problems and challenges to social equity, cohesion, and mobility. Such a negative depiction has become a doxic attitude that constitutes “the universe of that which is undiscussed, unnamed, admitted without argument or scrutiny” (Bourdieu, 1977, p. 170). What remain silent are the voices that question the “undisputed, pre-reflexive, naïve, native compliance with the fundamental presuppositions of the field” (Bourdieu, 1990b, p. 68). The point of departure of this book is to create such voices by raising some fundamental questions: Why do floating children and left-behind children have to be always arbitrarily described as waiting for salvation? Why do some of these children survive and thrive in adverse conditions more commonly expected to be associated with negative outcomes? What can we learn from these “surprising” and “unexpected” outcomes? To answer these questions necessitates the exploration and development of possible pathways to resilience building of floating children and left-behind children. The notion of resilience will be conceptualised momentarily in the next chapter, but to put simply, I define resilience in this book as a dynamic process that socialises floating children and left-behind children into a set of dispositions (habitus) and capacities (capital) required for rebounding from adversities and performing well across multiple domains – physical, psychological, social, and educational. Through a sociological lens of resilience, I intend to recognise the merits of floating children and left-behind children, question the taken-forgranted doxa that places these children at a structural disadvantage, and propose possible pathways to the wellbeing of these children in the face of adversities brought about by the migration context in contemporary China. In this book, I understand floating children and left-behind children as social participants who have tenacious bodies and minds to counteract structural adversities and navigate through life challenges given the right social support and ecological resources. In this vein, I create some competing discourses of doxa – “of that which is beyond question and which each agent tacitly accords by the mere fact of acting in accord with social convention” (Bourdieu, 1977, p. 169). Resilience building therefore is a process of socialisation that enculturates floating children and left-behind children as well as stakeholders into a set of dispositions and capacities required for questioning social conventions, challenging self-evident power relations, breaking structural constraints, and rebounding from adversities. Reframed through a sociological lens, resilience building locates the existence of competing possibles and alternatives that remain hidden in the doxic state. It brings to light the potential and strength of floating children and left-behind children. In a Bourdieusian language, it proffers to these children “the material and symbolic means of rejecting the definition of the real that is imposed on them through

28  The migration context logical structures reproducing the social structures (i.e. the state of the power relations) and to lift the (institutionalised or internalised) censorships which it implies” (Bourdieu, 1977, p. 169). Bourdieu has been criticised elsewhere as being pessimistic and deterministic. In this book, I make an attempt to develop a sociology of resilience, mainly taking up a Bourdieusian lens to look at change, go beyond the boundaries, and push the limits. In the Education 2030 Incheon Declaration and Framework for Action: Towards Inclusive and Equitable Quality Education and Lifelong Learning For All, UNESCO (2015) considers resilience building to be equally important as knowledge obtainment and development of creative and critical thinking and collaborative skills for all children. Resilience is traditionally a psychological notion. In the coming chapter, I construct the conceptual basis of the book by revisiting the notion of resilience and recasting the notion into a process of enculturation through a sociological lens.

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2 Seminal work, paradigmatic shifts, and foundational models Approaching a sociology of child and youth resilience The entire adaptive system is restructured on new bases when the defect destroys the equilibrium that exists among the adaptive functions; then, the whole system tends towards a new equilibrium. Compensation, the individual’s reaction to a defect, initiates new, roundabout developmental processes – it replaces, rebuilds a new structure, and stabilises psychological functions. Much of what is inherent in normal development disappears or is curtailed because of a defect. A new, special kind of development results. (Vygotsky, 1993, p. 34)

When Vygotsky (1993) discussed the fundamental problems of defectology, he noted that “a child whose development is impeded by a defect is not simply a child less developed than his peers but is a child who has developed differently” (p. 30). Here Vygotsky explicitly criticised the old school of defectology. He continued and pointed out that the school of defectology would be stuck in the well-worn cliché “if it proceeds from exclusively negative premises, just as no educational practice can be based on purely negative definitions and fundamentals” (Vygotsky, 1993, p. 31). The negative premises, however, “in no way exhaust children’s positive and unique features” (Vygotsky, 1993, p. 48). Therefore, modern defectology requires “a whole system of positive tasks, both theoretical and practical” (Vygotsky, 1993, p. 31). Apparently, Vygotsky (1993) has provided a caveat against deficit constructions and called for strength-based approaches to child and youth wellbeing as the research of the future. He considered the individual’s positive response to a defect as a roundabout process of rebuilding and restructuring the system destroyed by the defect. Termed as “compensation” (Vygotsky, 1993, p. 34), the roundabout process of, and alternative pathway to, child and youth wellbeing may formulate a special kind of adaptive system leading to a new equilibrium and stable psychological functions. The process of compensation was further detailed by Vygotsky (1993, pp. 32–33): Any defect creates stimuli for compensatory process . . . in a child’s development and behaviours, which substitute for, supersede, and overarch the

Seminal work 33 defect . . . Thus, defect becomes the starting point and the principal motivating force in the psychological development of personality. It establishes the target point, toward which the development of all psychological forces strive. It gives direction to the process of growth and the formation of personality. In the face of defects, some children have certain tendencies towards higher development that “foster creative, unendingly diverse, sometimes profoundly eccentric forms of development, which we do not observe in the typical development of the normal child” (Vygotsky, 1993, p. 33). The Vygotskian thesis of modern defectology accentuates the importance of recognising the potential strengths of “non-typical” children and realising the positive side of defects. His thesis is conceptually informative and epistemologically similar to the current debates about positive responses to adversity – an empirical phenomenon coined as ‘resilience’ that has been sparking a surge of international interest. Although Vygotsky did not explicitly use the term ‘resilience’, his positive psychology of child development in response to defective conditions lays the conceptual basis for current debates of child and youth resilience. Over the past four decades, colleagues have used different wordings to define resilience, but the notion is commonly used to denote “the process of, capacity for, or outcome of successful adaptation despite challenging or threatening circumstances” (Masten, Best, & Garmezy, 1990, p. 426). In other words, resilience is a dynamic system of successful adaptation to disturbances that threaten system function, viability, or development (Masten, 2014). Such an understanding suggests the symbiotic relationship between resilience and adversity, with the former reducing the odds of negative outcomes more commonly associated with the latter. Since resilience is an isotope of robust functioning across multiple life domains in adverse circumstances, it is often debated as a resourceful pathway to wellbeing in times of change and challenge. Since the 1970s, the focus of wellbeing research has gradually shifted from identifying individual problems and negative outcomes to recognising functional strengths and ecological resources. This paradigmatic shift indicates that the great threats to human wellness are not individual defects but the structural deficiencies that jeopardise the systems underlying adaptive processes (Luthar & Zigler, 1991; Masten, 2001; Seccombe, 2002). This paradigmatic shift resonates with Vygotsky’s discussion of fundamental problems of defectology. It appreciates that deviant behaviours may help some children and adolescents make meaning out of disorders and defects, become functionally adaptive to adversity, and experience resilience in challenging situations. In this respect, resilience can be achieved through alternative pathways typically, and sometimes mistakenly, thought to indicate disadvantages, disabilities, deficiencies, and dysfunctionalities. Pathways to wellbeing through resilience are replete with multifarious possibilities. Individual and environmental variations make resilience an extremely complex process to understand. First, children of different cultures may understand successful adaptation and adversity in different ways, and hence express resilience differently. Second, children of different social status may have different capacities

34  Seminal work and ways to access and use ecological resources, with children of socioeconomically disadvantaged families often found living in disadvantaged communities and studying in disadvantaged schools. Third, children demonstrate variations of successful adaptations in different domains when faced with different adversities. To deconstruct the complexity, the general question that resilience work needs to address is: What kinds of relational processes, and what attributes of which individuals, depend on what aspects of their social and physical ecologies, at what point in an individual’s development, and in what context and culture, to result in what immediate and long-term features associated, by whom, with positive development under adversity? (Ungar, 2011, p. 10) To answer this question, the task of resilience work is: to delineate how adaptive systems develop, how they operate under diverse conditions, how they work for or against success for a given child in his or her environmental and developmental context, and how they can be protected, restored, facilitated, and nurtured in the lives of children. (Masten, 2001, p. 235) Over the past four decades, the school of child and youth resilience has engaged in working out a system of coping and a new equilibrium in place of the old one blemished by adversity. By virtue of the new equilibrium, some children and adolescents are seemingly immune to setbacks. Colleagues like Garmezy (1971), Werner (1989), Masten (1989), Rutter (1979, 1987), Benard (1991), Luthar (1991), and Ungar (2005) have engaged in seminal work that has laid conceptual and empirical foundations for the field of child and youth resilience. Following the route of these colleagues, the current chapter constructs the theoretical underpinnings of the book by providing a panoramic overview of child and youth resilience research in terms of its conceptual shifts, empirical models, resilience and risk factors, and sociological implants.

Conceptualising resilience: individual qualities, ecological resources, cultural contexts, and constructionist perspectives On the grounds of an ontogenic perspective, early scholarship largely viewed resiliency as a personal quality of an individual child. This line of work commonly understands resiliency as an individual ability of a child to overcome, rather than surrender to, significant life changes and challenges (Joseph, 1994). For example, Werner and Smith (1982) figured out that resilient children were able to cope with their vulnerabilities and stresses, either internal ones (labile patterns of autonomic reactivity, developmental imbalances, or unusual sensitivities) or

Seminal work 35 external ones (illness, major losses, and dissolution of the family). Such ability may not immediately emanate from a threatening effect. Instead, it is designed for gradual recovery from, and positive adaption to, difficult and deleterious life circumstances (Benard, 1991), often following initial retreat or incapacity upon a stressful event (Garmezy, 1991a). This non-linear, undulant pattern indicates that resilient children are not necessarily impervious to stresses. Rather, these children make due changes to accommodate stresses (Masten, 2014) and maintain functional adequacy and competency despite interfering risks, all of which manifest as a benchmark of their successful coping with stresses (Garmezy, 1991b). Their successful coping may grow out of the capacity of dealing with threats to wellbeing and the functioning of recovery from trauma (Kirby & Fraser, 1997). As a result, resilient children, though born and raised in unfavourable circumstances, are able to grow successfully, often associated with better than expected outcomes (Kirby & Fraser, 1997). In this sense, whether resiliency is understood as a set of personal abilities, coping strategies, or positive outcomes in the face of adversity, there is much overlap between these individualistic conceptualisations. Working in tandem with the endogenous, individualistic conceptualisations, colleagues have summarised a constellation of attributes of resilient children. These attributes may include, but are not limited to, social competence, interaction, and cooperation (Benard, 1993; Oliver, 2012; Parr, Montgomery, & DeBell, 1998; Wasonga, Christman, & Kilmer, 2003; Werner, 2000; Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012); reactions to, and interest in, the environment (Werner, 2000); proactive problem-solving skills (Wasonga et al., 2003; Werner, 1989; Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012); good-natured personality (Joseph, 1994; Werner, 1989); autonomy and self-regulation (Benard, 1993; Parr et al., 1998; Werner, 2000; Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012); optimism and hope (Benard, 1993; Joseph, 1994; Oliver, 2012; Parr et al., 1998; Werner, 2000); acceptance of life challenges and taking risks (Parr et al., 1998; Werner, 1989); control over life (Joseph, 1994; Parr et al., 1998; Werner, 1989); sense of purpose and mission, task orientation, motivation, and goals and aspirations (Oliver, 2012; Parr et al., 1998; Wasonga et al., 2003; Werner, 2000; Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012); critical consciousness (Parr et al., 1998; Wasonga et al., 2003; Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012); understanding of the self (Dass-Brailsford, 2005); self-esteem, self-efficacy, and empathy (Wasonga et al., 2003; Werner, 1992); creativity and initiative (Dass-Brailsford, 2005; Parr et al., 1998); as well as insight and sense of humour (Parr et al., 1998). In a similar vein, Martin and Marsh (2006) drew insight from an individualist framework and proposed a 5-C model to portray the academically resilient students. The 5-C model was composed of confidence (self-efficacy), coordination (planning), control, composure (low anxiety), and commitment (persistence). In summary, the past four decades have seen a large cohort of colleagues diligently participate in the discussion of characteristics of resilient children, some of which bear a striking similarity. Early research has empirically evidenced a list of characteristics of resilient children, which span the gamut of dimensions of personal attributes. However, the individualist, ontogenic framework is not the only paradigm of child and youth

36  Seminal work resilience research. The recent popularity of Vygotsky’s work on child development and its relationship to culture is a reflection of the trend towards greater understanding of context in child development. The Vygotskian thesis has laid the theoretical foundation for the ecological approach to child development (Bronfenbrenner, 1979). Within multi-layered and inter-nested systems, the interactions between children’s capacity to develop and the availability of ecological resources to support that development point to broader social and cultural factors behind resilience building. In light of the Vygotskian and Bronfenbrennerian schools, a growing body of literature has gone beyond the traditional individualistic paradigm and shifted resilience research to an ecological paradigm. This literature considers environmental dynamics to be more critical to child and youth resilience than individual traits. Framed within the ecological paradigm, the literature, as will be discussed shortly, recasts the notion of resiliency into the notion of resilience, and contests that resilience is less biologically determined than it is socially facilitated. Some colleagues take into account both individual assets and ecological textures when studying child and youth resilience. For example, when Werner and Smith (1982) first published the findings from their longitudinal study, they stated that most children seemed to “self-right” in all but the most persistently adverse situations. Their later work, however, has seen the ebb of the self-righting discourse and the flow of the contention that change is always possible given the right resources (e.g., Werner, 1989, 2000). In a similar vein, Felsman (1989, p. 79) defined resilience as “a function of the individual’s unique strengths, capacities, vulnerabilities, and ‘goodness of fit’ with the demands and opportunities of the environment”. However, on their own terms, neither stable individual attributes nor enduring environmental features seem likely to provide a sufficient explanation of the processes leading to resilience (Rutter, 2007). This view construes resilience as a process of individual-environment interactions. Such a view is supported by colleagues like Luthar, Cicchetti, and Becker (2000, p. 543), who define resilience as a “dynamic process encompassing positive adaptation within the context of significant adversity”. The structures around the individual and the services provided to the individual work in tandem with the characteristics of the individual, allowing the individual to overcome the adversity and chart pathways to resilience (Ungar, 2005, 2013). In line with the ecological perspective, Ungar (2008, p. 225) defines resilience as follows: In the context of exposure to significant adversity, whether psychological, environmental, or both, resilience is both the capacity of individuals to navigate their way to health sustaining resources, including opportunities to experience feelings of wellbeing, and a condition of the individual’s family, community, and culture to provide these health resources and experience in culturally meaningful ways. Ungar (2010, p. 6) also provides a shorter definition: “Resilience is the capacity of individuals to access resources that enhance their wellbeing, and the capacity

Seminal work 37 of their physical and social ecologies to make those resources available in meaningful ways”. Although the features of both the individual and the environment lead to resilience, the focus needs to shift from changing individuals to making social and physical ecologies facilitative (Ungar, 2011). In aversive settings, resilience is more dependent on the availability and accessibility of ecological resources than individual assets (Ungar, 2011). To clarify, changes can occur at two levels. A first-order change helps individuals to cope better following adversity, while a second-order change addresses environmental shortcomings and increase the odds that resilience occurs. Based on a search of the literature for examples of research that investigate both individual and environmental influences on resilience, Ungar (2013) concludes that traumatic effects are more likely to be mitigated by second-order change than first-order adaptation. In other words, ecological dynamics tend to be more meaningful in resilience processes than individual characteristics. The importance of ecology has ignited a growing research passion for discussing system-level factors for child and youth resilience. There remains some belief that certain risk factors and protective factors are universal. Some of this belief may be rooted in the predominance of middle-class, White research, from which many similar research findings may emerge. However, studies contextualised in lower- and middle-income countries and those with marginalised children populations in higher-income countries are identifying new protective processes (Ungar, Ghazinour, & Richter, 2013). A given factor emanating from a particular situation is not universally protective or risky once and for all, irrespective of culture and context. The attempts to duplicate Western, White, middle-class knowledge in other cultures and contexts often end up with inconsistency at best, or failure at worst. To develop a coherent body of resilience research, it is critical that context and culture are taken into account. Since culture and context moderate resilience process (Ungar et al., 2013), resilience can have varying morphologies across different cultural settings and social contexts. As Wyman (2003, p. 314) tells us: In our future efforts to investigate resilience trajectories – and in our efforts to promote them – we should remain attentive to the fact that processes that are beneficial to children in one context may be neutral, or even deleterious, in another. In simple words, the same disposition may be an asset (e.g., a resilience factor or outcome) in one culture or context and a liability in others (Rutter, 1989). The large variations in risk and protective factors have been revealed by many studies: for example, Masten’s (2011) research of homeless children. The results indicate that there may be predominant risk and protective factors in different settings. However, these factors vary for individuals within these settings. The variance is due to the interaction between the resources and the risks in the environment and the characteristics that the young person brings to the setting. For another example, political and social institutions that build resilience factors may help people

38  Seminal work to become protective against stressors and to have higher wellbeing level in some conditions, but can lead to individual maladaptive responses and lower wellbeing in other circumstances (Davydov, Stewart, Ritchie, & Chaudieu, 2010). Specifically, resilience factors and outcomes within socialist societies and societies with collective cultural values can have different, or even contrasting, mechanisms in capitalistic societies and societies with individualistic cultural values (Davydov et al., 2010). Therefore, interventions on child and youth resilience should be developed cognisant of the social and cultural contexts. Put simply, to understand the variations behind the complex resilience processes requires a culture- and context-sensitive approach (Ungar, Lee, Callaghan, & Boothroyd, 2005). To advance knowledge in resilience research, there is value in focusing on process salient across different cultures (Luthar & Zelazo, 2003). The process of resilience may vary for different groups of children (see examples in Fergus & Zimmerman, 2005). Resilience resources benefit a particular group of children only if these resources are aligned with the unique cultural context wherein they are available (Ungar, 2008). Within multi-ethnic settings, the relationship between cultural/ethnic identity and resilience has been one of the foci of investigation. Incongruent with early ethnic research that considered acculturation to be desirable, resilience research showed a decline in immigrant children’s mental health and pro-sociality as their adherence to the culture of origin decreased (Berry, Phinney, Sam, & Vedder, 2006b). Immigrant parents who raised their children with heritage cultural values and traditions, reinforced children’s adherence to the family’s culture of origin, and maintained contacts with extended family in home country were likely to have children with less delinquency (Driscoll, Russell, & Crockett, 2008; Juang & Nguyen, 2009). Interestingly, a powerful sense of cultural identity reinforced by a child’s family and school may be highly functional as a way of promoting resilience for a child from a marginalised ethnoracial community but lack much influence for a child who is a member of the majority culture (Shin, Daly, & Vera, 2007). Such a finding is not hard to explain. In multi-ethnic societies, acculturation of ethnic minority children into mainstream culture is not always perfect. Therefore, a positive identity of the original culture contributes to ethnic minority children’s sense of belongingness and connectedness, and further to their resilience that buttresses positive responses to challenges brought about by the mainstream norms, politics, and institutions. The problem of the pan-culture validity is complicated and questioned by the increasingly pluralistic and dynamic nature of Western societies. In many cases, multi-contexts or cross-cultural resilience research simply replicates studies with different populations using standard Western research protocols. These standard protocols do not account for the ever-changing patterns of positive functioning and resilience that emerge in a climate of growing multiculturalism. International comparative studies of children from different countries (Berry et al., 2006b; Erberber, Stephens, Mamedova, Ferguson, & Kroeger, 2015; Liebenberg et al., 2016; Ungar et al., 2005), cross-ethnic comparisons (DuMont, Widom, & Czaja, 2007; Goel, Amatya, Jones, & Ollendick, 2014; Hoven et al., 2005; Norris, Friedman, Watson, & Byrne, 2002; Wasonga et al., 2003; Widom, Czaja,

Seminal work 39 Wilson, Allwood, & Chauhan, 2013), and multi-ethnic studies of young people of different heritages (Herr, Castro, & Canty, 2012; Morales, 2010), as well as studies of a target cultural minority group (Brown, 2014; Morales, 2000; Oliver, 2012), African American youths in particular (Barrett, 2010; Belgrave, ChaseVaughn, Gray, Addison, & Cherry, 2000; Burt, Simons, & Gibbons, 2012; Carter Andrews, 2012), are conducive to complementing the White, Western, mainstream knowledge about resilience. Both comparative approaches that document cross-cultural differences in resilience process and within-group analyses that unveil particular resilience processes of children from a given cultural background are meaningful in terms of decoding the matrix of risk, protector, resilience, and outcome of subgroups of children about whom there is currently little understanding. Comparative approaches and within-group analyses, however, do not go without problems. Treating children of different cultures as separate groups or a monolithic whole may be of limited utility in societies with increasing multiculturality (e.g., Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the US, the UK, and the EU), where students do not present as discrete, mutually exclusive colour blocks in a “solved Rubik”; rather, they live, grow, and learn together like the mixed colour blocks in a “scrambled Rubik” (see Figure 2.1). Nevertheless, the portrait of the resilience process of children in culturally diverse contexts remains incomplete because research has not yet accounted adequately for multiculturality. In an era when (im)migration has become commonplace in a global context, the dynamics and variances within the multicultural frame merit more investigation. In response to the increasingly pluralistic profile of schools and communities in many parts of the world, there is an urgency to look beyond the culturally sensitive approach and develop a multiculturally sensitive approach to resilience. The multicultural, collective lens helps to capture the emergent properties of the multi-layered and inter-nested cultural tensions and strengths that have long existed in multicultural societies. The dynamic interplay of resources and the meaning that at-risk children attach to them in varying cultural contexts, along with changing discourses of

The White, Western model

The culturally sensitive model (The solved Rubik)

The multiculturally sensitive model (The scrambled Rubik)

Figure 2.1 Shifting from the White model, through the culturally sensitive model, to the multiculturally sensitive model

40  Seminal work health as children and families migrate between cultures and contexts, make it difficult to assert with certainty which resources are the most predictive of wellbeing (Ungar, 2010). This uncertainty offers a caveat against the cultural and contextual blindness to the understanding of desirable outcomes. Neither resilience nor desirable outcome is a culture- or context-free notion. What has been defined as “desirable” in a certain culture or context, and in relation to a particular population, may or may not be socially anticipated or accepted in another culture, context, or population. Therefore, alleging that desirable outcome is a universally normative, invariant concept is problematic, arbitrary, and empirically untenable. The transplant of the notion ‘desirable outcome’ from one culture/context/population to another should be prudent. The culture/ context/population-specific understanding of desirable outcomes accentuates ‘subjectivity’ in the resilience process. In recognition of subjectivity, Ungar (2010) calls for a widening perspective of cross-cultural, multi-contexts approach to child and youth resilience. This call has given rise to the constructionist view that challenges the positivist paradigm fraught with normative, mainstream definitions of resilience and the traditional psychological trait theories that do not take into account subjective understandings of social contexts and cultural dynamics. When objective health is measured by a set of commonly understood positive outcomes irrespective of culture, context, and population, it runs into problem when faced with cultural and contextual variances in the understanding of health and adversity. In contrast, a constructionist approach to resilience is framed within a postmodern paradigm (Ungar, 2004). Resilience is defined by individuals themselves as being healthy amidst conditions collectively viewed as adverse. Earlier, Vygotsky (1993, p. 35) considered risks and inferiorities to be socially constructed rather than definite irrespective of cultures and contexts: The child is not directly aware of his handicap. Instead, he is aware of the difficulties deriving from the defect. The immediate consequence of the defect is to diminish the child’s social standing; the defect manifests itself as a social aberration. All contact with people, all situations which define a person’s place in the social sphere, his role and fate as a participant in life, all the social functions of daily life are reordered. This Vygotskian thesis seems to intimate that social fabrics place limits on child and youth growth and construct understandings and outcomes of defects. As a result, resilience is not about predetermined health outcomes despite objectively defined adversity. Rather, it is the process and outcome from negotiations between individual children and their environments. Through these negotiations, children define themselves as healthy amidst conditions that they view as adverse. Unlike “objective” interpretations of resilience that are plagued by cultural hegemony, research that views resilience as a social construction has found non-systemic, non-hierarchical relationships between risk factors and resilience factors, describing the relationships between factors across diverse cultural, social, and political

Seminal work 41 contexts as chaotic, complex, and relative (Ungar, 2004). Ungar (2004, p. 344) summarises the constructionist perspective of child and youth resilience: Resilience factors are multidimensional, unique to each context, and predict health outcomes as defined by individuals and their social reference group; characteristics identified by individuals as compensating for self-defined risks; challenges that build capacity for survival relative to the lived experience of individuals; protection against threats to well-being through the exploitation of available health resources. Health is constructed with a plurality of behaviours and signifiers. In simple words, risk and resilience are socially constructed and indefinite across different cultures and contexts. The constructionist approach to child and youth resilience explicitly tolerates differences and diversities. The disparity between the subjective, constructionist approach and the objective, positivist mode of inquiry is apparent. Largely focusing on the statistical relationships between objectively defined risks, predetermined desirable outcomes, and dominant discourses of resilient functioning, the positivist paradigm of resilience seems unable to accommodate the plural, diverse, or sometimes divergent meanings that children negotiate in their self-constructions of resilience. In stark contrast, the constructionist approach to resilience rejects cultural hegemony and addresses chaotic, complex, relative, and contradictory settings of resilience (Ungar, 2004). It encourages openness to every indigenised, local definition of healthy functioning and positive outcomes in the face of adversity. It criticises arbitrary definitions of what is the socially anticipated and accepted evidence of resilience articulated by the mainstream social groups. Such arbitrariness is resultant from the “ethnocentricism” (Ungar, 2004, p. 345) that is often accused of complicity with the hegemony of Western, White, dominant discourses and norms. In this vein, the constructionist view creates a unique opportunity to decode power and politics within the resilience process of children and adolescents. The constructionist approach to child and youth resilience evokes some important questions (Ungar, 2004): Within each particular social and cultural context, what do children themselves discern as healthy functioning? How do their views compete with the mainstream, so-called scientific discourse on wellbeing as articulated and privileged by dominant social groups? Who is to decide what is or is not an acceptable expression of wellbeing? Who is to define what are or are not culturally appropriate, contextually sensitive, and population-specific desirable outcomes? How, then, to discover unnamed resilience processes and unheard, marginalised resilience stories? When dealing with young people and their future, mainstream language of risk and resilience can create a form of symbolic violence. Disadvantaged young people may construct resilience processes and identities, as opposed to socially anticipated, normative ones. Therefore, a more humane, and in many respects a more fruitful, way of approaching the study of young lives is to focus on the narratives and the desirable futures that young people envision for themselves (Foster & Spencer, 2011).

42  Seminal work The constructionist view of resilience has made important contributions. That said, children’s subjective knowledge about resilience cannot be understood as being fully constructed from within. The objective structures of the social world do come to shape children’s subjective inner world. In this book, I propose a sociological framework of resilience to debunk the tensions and negotiations between the individual and the social, construing resilience as a process of socialisation that internalises the external and externalises the internal. A sociology of resilience will be discussed at the end of this chapter. As each chapter unfolds, my sociological approach to resilience will become clearer. Resilience process consists of multifarious ecologies, contexts, and cultures in which reality is being constantly defined and redefined, negotiated and renegotiated, and constructed and reconstructed by individuals living within different segments of a given social structure. The existence and emergence of multiple, contradictory, nebulous meanings associated with adversities and desirable outcomes both within and across ecological, cultural, and contextual boundaries invalidate universal truth claims about resilience. Therefore, child and youth resilience research is decrypting a subject matter that is ecologically diverse, culturally variable, and contextually specific. The multiplicity and fluidity within and across ecologies, cultures, and contexts make the working mechanisms of resilience inconstant. The persistent failure to discover universal and invariant authenticity has awakened a steady stream of research to model the shifting, inter-nested working mechanisms of child and youth resilience. I now proceed to review major approaches to modelling the increasingly complex resilience processes.

Modelling resilience: compensatory model, protective model, and challenge model Over the past four decades, scholars have made various attempts to decipher the fluid matrix of risk, resilience, and outcome and model different working mechanisms of child and youth resilience. Of all these attempts, the three-model approach proposed by Garmezy, Masten, and Tellegen (1984) has provided foundational work for subsequent discussions of resilience mechanisms. The three-model approach consists of the compensatory model, the protective model, and the challenge model. In the compensatory model, resilience process has an equally beneficial effect on children in both low- and high-risk environments; in the protective model, resilience process is advantageous to children experiencing risks, but has no influence on those in low-risk environments; and in the challenge model, the benefit of resilience process is dependent on the level of exposure to risk (Schoon, 2006). A detailed discussion of the three models follow, with the working mechanisms of the models graphed in figures. In the compensatory model, a compensatory factor counteracts the negative impact of risk and operates in an opposite direction of a risk factor. However, the compensatory factor does not directly interact with the risk factor. Instead, it has a direct influence on the outcome, working independently of the effect of the risk factor. In other words, the compensatory factor may not necessarily reduce risk

Seminal work 43 itself; rather, it fosters positive outcomes. As a result, compensatory factors are equally beneficial to children exposed and not exposed to adversity (Fergusson & Horwood, 2003). When the compensatory factor is held constant, children with no risk are associated with better outcomes than those plauged by risks. The working mechanism of the compensatory model is shown in Figure 2.2. Different from the working mechanism of the compensatory model, that of the protective model benefits children exposed to risk factors but may have no effect on those not exposed to risk (Fergusson & Horwood, 2003). When the protective factor only has a main effect on the focal outcome but has no moderating effect on the relationship between the risk factor and the focal outcome factor, the protective model is identitcal to the compensatory model (Garmezy et al., 1984). In protective models, protective factors (e.g., individual assets and ecological resources) can interact with risk factors and moderate or neutralise the negative effects of risk factors on the outcomes. As Masten et al. (1990, p. 426) explained, “protective factors moderate the effects of individual vulnerabilities or environmental hazards so that the adaptational trajectory is more positive than would be the case if the protective factor were not operational”. The working mechanism of the protective model is shown in Figure 2.3. For children exposed to risks, stronger protective factors contribute to more positive outcomes despite

Children with no risk Positive outcome

At-risk children Compensatory factor

Figure 2.2 The compensatory model

At-risk children Positive outcome

Children with no risk Protective factor

Figure 2.3 The protective model

44  Seminal work adversities. However, protective factors may not be statistically conducive to positive outcomes for children with no risks. In situations where risks are not too overwhelming, protective factors can operate in several different ways, namely the protective-stabilising model, the protective-enhancing model, and the protective-reactive model (Luthar et al., 2000). In the protective-stabilising model, protectors provide outcome stability despite increased risk. When the protector is present, the relationship between the risk and the outcome seems to disappear. When the protector is absent, higher levels of risk are responsible for higher levels of negative outcomes. Having said that, the relationship between the risk and the outcome may not necessarily present a linear pattern in the absence of the protector. Rather, a nonlinear effect may be manifested by exponential increases in problematic outcomes as risks or adversities increase (Masten, 2014). The working mechanism of the protectivestabilising model is shown in Figure 2.4. In the protective-enhancing model, protectors work to promote positive outcomes with the increased intensity of risk. The working mechanism of the protectiveenhancing model is shown in Figure 2.5. In the protective-reactive model, protectors can contribute to positive outcomes but less so when the intensity of risk is increased. As Masten et al. (1990, p. 426) explained, “protective processes, such as efforts by a parent to foster

In the absence of the protector Negative outcome In the presence of the protector Risk factor

Figure 2.4 The protective-stabilising model

High risk Positive outcome

Low risk

Protective factor

Figure 2.5 The protective-enhancing model

Seminal work 45 adaptation, may not be adequate if the vulnerability of the individual or the severity of the adversity is too great to overcome”. Although the protective factor does not completely remove the association between the risk and the outcome, it works to ameliorate or weaken the association. That is, the association between the risk and the outcome is stronger when the protective factor is not present. The working mechanism of the protective-reactive model is shown in Figure 2.6. In the challenge model, a risk factor is treated as a possible enhancer of competence, given that the level of risk is not extreme. In this model, the association between a risk factor and an outcome is curvilinear, with exposure to high levels of risk contributing to negative outcomes, whereas moderate levels of risk contribute to less negative, or even positive, outcomes. In simple words, coping and adaptation may improve at lower levels of challenge and then fall at higher levels of challenge (Masten, 2014). A vital point concerning the challenge model is that only certain, but not all, levels of risk exposure may be beneficial for building resilience. Exposure to moderate levels of risk can provide children and adolescents with an opportunity to learn and grow through experiencing enough challenges that are not too troubling to overcome. On the one hand, exposure to risk must be challenging enough to elicit positive responses so that children and adolescents can practice coping skills, employ resources, and learn from the process of overcoming the risk. One the other hand, when the risk is too minor to notice or too severe to manage, it either falls completely within the comfort zone of children and adolescents or go way beyond their competence zone. In the challenge model, whether the risk factor threatens or strengthens child and youth wellbeing partly depends on the level of exposure to the risk (Fergus & Zimmerman, 2005). In this respect, risk factors in the challenge model can bring about “steeling effect” (Rutter, 2013, p. 477) that occurs in a way and at a time when children and adolescents learn to cope successfully with certain levels of adversity. In other words, resilience may be fostered by exposure to manageable challenges or moderate doses of stressors, rather than by avoidance of hazard and risk (Rutter, 2013). The working mechanism of the challenge model is seemingly similar to that of the protective-reactive model. The former model differs, however, in its positive perspective towards risks, challenges, and adversities; and in

High risk Positive outcome

Negative outcome Low risk Protective factor

Figure 2.6 The protective-reactive model

In the absence of the protector

In the presence of the protector

Risk factor

46  Seminal work its potential to transform inhibitors of growth into facilitators of wellbeing. The working mechanism of the challenge model is shown in Figure 2.7. One example of the challenge model can be found in the study of expelled students in the US (N. Coleman, 2015). The study indicates that expulsion from school does not have to be a tragic event. Instead, socioemotional and academic interventions deveopled by educators were found to channel the positive lifechanging potential of expelled students. Through these thoughtful targeted interventions, expulsion from school has become the first step in students’ journeys to achieve their goals. A second example of the challenge model can be found in the study of floating children and left-behind children in China (Mu & Hu, 2016). The study indicates that participation in chores contributes to the resilience of floating children and left-behind children. This finding resonates with earlier studies. Adolescents who had to take on additional family responsibilities during the Great Economic Depression of the 1930s, and who coped successfully, seemed to benefit from this work-related experiences (Elder, 1974). By a similar token, pleasant working experiences may promote children’s sense of identity and relationships with others, improve the quality of their material and social capital, and enhance their feelings of wellbeing in general (Libório & Ungar, 2010). At the same time, working experiences, particularly those obtained through familybased domestic work, not only help children access positive sources of efficacy and cohesion, but also help them gain recognition for their contributions to others’ welfare (Libório & Ungar, 2010). Although children’s participation in labour is a potential threat to their wellbeing, the aforementioned studies consistently suggest the positive influence of an appropriate participation in chores and a suitable quantity of economic activities on child and youth resilience. That said, excessive child labour with an exploitative nature is often associated with safety and human right issues and hence maleficent to child and youth resilience. Although the three-model approach is widely cited and debated in the literature, it is not the only conceptualisation of resilience mechanisms. In addition to the three-model approach, Bonanno and Diminich (2013) distinguish emergent resilience and minimal-impact resilience. Emergent resilience refers to the development of favourable adjustment in the face of chronically aversive

High risk Positive outcome Moderate risk Risk factor

Figure 2.7 The challenge model

Seminal work 47 circumstances, such as chronic poverty, civil war, repeated bullying, and prolonged family conflict. Emergent resilience in enduring and persistently aversive contexts is emphatic about adaptation and coping over a broad sweep of time. As a result, emergent resilience is interested in the nurture of long-term or distal outcomes. The pivotal working mechanism of emergent resilience helps to locate factors either exacerbating or ameliorating negative outcomes following chronical aversive conditions. Results from emergent resilience include a stable trajectory of little or no symptoms and distress or consistently high levels of positive wellbeing over time. In other words, emergent resilience denotes positive adjustment in response to chronically stressful and caustic circumstances. It is typically observed only after the stressful circumstances have abated (Bonanno & Diminich, 2013). Similar to the pattern termed as “normalisation” (Masten & Obradovi, 2008, p. 10), emergent resilience may illustrate poor or declining functioning during the encroachment of chronic adversities, whereas the functioning turns around when conditions improve. In some cases, there are significant deferrals of turning around. For example, the longitudinal study of the Kauai people found that some teenage delinquents or teen mothers did not show “unexpected” positive outcomes until their adulthood (Werner, 1992; Werner & Smith, 2001). These people are dubbed as “late bloomers” (Masten, 2011, p. 500). The working mechanism of emergent resilience is shown in Figure 2.8. Different from emergent resilience, minimal-impact resilience copes with loss, trauma, and other forms of acute caustic life events, such as parental bereavement and sudden overwhelming natural disasters. Typically, but not always, these events occur as isolated stressors in an otherwise normative environment. As the stressors are often isolated and acute, minimal-impact resilience is manifested by more focused and relatively more prescribed coping strategies and efforts. The conceptual focus here shifts from chronic adversities and distal outcomes to more isolated, acute events and proximal patterns of healthy adjustment. Consequently, minimal-impact resilience is realised through positive adjustment in response to isolated and acute stressors or potentially traumatic events. The minimal-impact resilience suggests little or no lasting effect on functioning and a relatively stable trajectory of continuous healthy adjustment following or/and prior to adverse

With the ebb of chronic adversity

Positive outcome With the encroachment of chronic adversity

Emergent resilience

Figure 2.8 The working mechanism of emergent resilience

48  Seminal work events. The minimal-impact resilience illustrates “stress-resistance, a pattern with little or minor disturbance of function in response to an adverse experience” (Masten, 2014, p. 10). The working mechanism of minimal-impact resilience is shown in Figure 2.9. Over the past decades, scholars have come to grips with different patterns of resilience mechanisms that help children and adolescents navigate to resources and cope with adversities. Some scholars have summarised these resilience mechanisms in different ways, some of which bear a striking similarity. For example, Davydov et al. (2010) suggested to distinguish different resilience mechanisms that work against: (1) aversive or stressful events themselves; (2) negative outcomes, maladaptive responses, and persistent dysfunctions; and (3) development of a disorder in the face of aversive events. Accordingly, three types of resilience factors are distinguished (Davydov et al., 2010): (1) harm-reduction factors operating in the face of risk factors that may themselves be difficult to modify (such as genetic risk factors or poverty); (2) protective factors that decrease the probability of pathology; and (3) promotion factors that actively enable additional resources and enhance postive psychological wellbeing. Earlier, Rutter (1987) distinguished four types of mechanisms that work to: (1) reduce the impact of risks, (2) reduce the likelihood of negative chain reactions associated with adversity, (3) establish and maintain self-esteem and self-efficacy, and (4) create new opportunities for success. Later, Rutter (2013) refined the working mechanisms of child and youth resilience. First, resilience may be fostered by controlled exposure to manageable challenges and stresses, rather than through the avoidance of these challenges and stresses. Second, protection may derive from neutral or even slightly risky experiences (e.g., adoption) in the absence of threats. Third, outcomes may depend on individual features, such as planning, self-reflection, and personal agency. Fourth, late recovery from early adversities may stem from turning point experiences that knife off the past and provide new opportunities. Fifth, individual differences in response to adversity may reflect biological pathways influenced by genes. Guided by extant resilience models, scholars have identified a variety of resilience factors. I now proceed to provide a panaromic overview of resilience building within and across social spaces of family, school, and community.

Positive outcome

Prior to adversity

Following adversity

During adversity Time

Figure 2.9 The working mechanism of minimal-impact resilience

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Building resilience in everyday contexts: the “ordinary magic” of family, school, and community The complexity of resilience process can never be overemphasised because children respond differently to similar stressors and the same child responds differently to different stressors. Despite the contextual variances and cultural dynamics, there is budding evidence about: (1) nurture against nautre, that is, resilience is not as much an individual construct as it is a quality of the environment that facilitates individual growth; (2) differential impact, that is, the impact that any single factor has on resilience differs by the amount of exposure to risk; and (3) cultural and contextual moderation, that is, resilience looks both the same and different within and between populations, with the mechanisms that predict positive growth sensitive to individual, contextual, and cultural variation and specificity (Ungar, 2013; Ungar et al., 2013). Through a four-decade contestation, scholars have come up with a commonly agreed view that resilience is an ecological, cultural, and social project. Numerous contributing factors have emerged from the complex resilience process. Ungar et al. (2007) provided a list of resilience factors homogenous across children populations in 11 countries. These factors included a powerful sense of self-definition and cultural adherence; experiences of efficacy and social justice; cohesion within family, community, and school; as well as access to material resources and supportive relationships. Donnon and Hammond (2007) provided a similar list that included self-concept, control, and empowerment; cultural and social sensitivity; academic engagement; parental support and expectations; as well as peer relationships, community cohesiveness, and school culture. Masten and Powell (2003) summarised resilience factors in three domains: (1) individual differences (cognitive abilities, self-worth, self-regulation, confidence, and postive outlook on life), (2) relationships (parenting quality, support from significant adults, and connections to prosocial and rule-abiding peers), and (3) community resources and opportunities (good schools; connections to prosocial organisations such as clubs and religious groups; resourceful neighbourhoods with public safety, collective supervision, libraries, and recreation centres; and quality social services and health care). All in all, there is a steady stream of empirical evidence that resilience factors operate at multiple levels across individual, familial, and societal domains (Dass-Brailsford, 2005; Dryden, Johnson, Howard, & McGuire, 1998; Garmezy, 1985, 1991a; Luthar & Zelazo, 2003; Luthar & Zigler, 1991; Masten, Hubbard, Herbers, & Reed, 2009; Masten & Powell, 2003; Nearchou, Stogiannidou, & Kiosseoglou, 2014; Rutter, 1987; Werner & Smith, 1982; Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012). Given the multi-layered, inter-nested factors of resilience, it would be conceptually wrong to mythologise and oversimplify resilience as the super functioning of some, but not all, children. This does not mean that in specific situations, extraordinary individual traits or psychological responses may not play a key role in children’s recovery from, and growth in, afflictive conditions. Rather, in most situations, resilience appears to be a common phenomenon arising from children’s

50  Seminal work ordinary adaptive processes given the right resources. In other words, resources emerging from normal, everyday contexts are key factors behind child and youth resilience (Masten et al., 1999). These resources are versatile and responsive to a wide variety of challenges, both normative and non-normative, manifesting in various forms, depending on the nature and development of the child at the time, as well as the nature of the situation or context (Masten & Powell, 2003). As Masten (2001, p. 235) argues, What began as a quest to understand the extraordinary has revealed the power of the ordinary. Resilience does not come from rare special qualities, but from the everyday magic of ordinary, normative human resources in the minds, brains, and bodies of children, in their families and relationships, and in their communities. Rutter (2006, 2012, 2013) adheres to Masten’s contention of the ordinary magic within the resilience process. He openly criticises the idea of “superkids” and emphasises that ordinary environmental resources, rather than extraordinary individual traits, catalyse child and youth resilience in a more robust way. The term ‘resource’ deviates from traditional conceptualisations of resilience as an individual trait, highlights the social and environmental influences on child and youth health and growth, and helps place resilience in a more ecological and cultural context (Fergus & Zimmerman, 2005). The term ‘resource’ echoes the pioneering, longitudinal research that has shown the salient role of social support in the resilience process (Werner & Smith, 1982) and stressed the essence of attachment to, and receipt of, social support from at least one significant adult (Werner, 1989). More recent research has largely strengthened the conclusions from early studies and considered social support to be a significant predictor of child and youth resilience (DuMont et al., 2007; Rutter, 2007, 2013; Şahin Baltaci & Karataş, 2015). Resilience rests on robust social support from significant others and meaningful connections between children and people around them (Luthar & Zelazo, 2003). Within the everyday, routine context, strong relationships between children and siggnficant adults are one of the most proximal and enduring resources that nurture resilience for dealing with adversity (Luthar & Zelazo, 2003). Along with caring relationships, high expectations and opportunities to participate and contribute are major ecological factors that build child and youth resilience in mundane contexts (Benard, 1991). In brief, social support and nurturing relationships withina family, school, and community enable children and adolescents to continue on a normal life trajectory despite adversties. In the langauge of ecological system theory (Bronfenbrenner, 1979), the social spaces of family, school, and community constitute the microsystem of child development, to which the child has a direct, proximal contact. Within the domestic milieu, parents and caregivers function as the first and the most proximal environmental protective agents (Masten et al., 1990). Resourceful resilience factors may include close, nurturing relationships with caregivers

Seminal work 51 and siblings; consistent and reasonably high parental expectations for children’s development; and adults’ deliberate arrangements for children to complete chores or help their siblings. Empirical research has evidenced that warm family relationships (Luthar, Sawyer, & Brown, 2006) and decent parenting (Masten, Fiat, Labella, & Strack, 2015) are facilitative of the resilience of children at risk. Strong parental support was found to be a positive factor for resilience building of youth exposed to violence (Eisman, Stoddard, Heinze, Caldwell, & Zimmerman, 2015). Warm family relationships were found to bring about resilience for children exposed to bullying (Bowes, Maughan, Caspi, Moffitt, & Arseneault, 2010; Hauser, Allen, & Golden, 2006; Rutter, 2013). Although warm family relationships were found to have a strong effect on the resilience of bullied children, the effect also applied to non-bullied children, though to a lesser degree. Based on his extensive review, Rutter (2013) summarises that many resilience factors, in the case of warm family relationships, serve as promoters of good functioning in both the presence and the absence of adversity. In this respect, warm family relationships create a welcoming and enabling ecological microsystem that nurtures child and youth resilience. In the context of domestic violence (e.g., corporeal punishment, child neglect or abuse, family conflict), interventions on family relationships follow a protective model of building resilience to eliminate the risk factor – domestic violence in this case. In the context of the absence of domestic violence, interventions on family relationships follow a compensatory model of building resilience to promote good functioning and desirable outcomes in the presence or absence of other adversities. Beyond the domestic milieu, interactions with peers, teachers, counsellors, mentors, and other significant adults within the school and community domains are important for building resilience of children and adolescents. Much weight of the literature has been placed on the discussion of building student resilience in the educational context – a successful adaptive process termed as academic resilience that improves the odds of school success despite adversities (Wang, Haertel, & Walberg, 1994). Over the past decades, colleagues (Benard, 1991; Rutter, Maughan, Mortimore, & Ouston, 1979; Sharkey, You, & Schnoebelen, 2008) have consistently spoken of the paramount importance of school connectedness to student resilience. In racialised school climate, peer support was found to help Black students maintain relatively high levels of academic engagement and aspriation, and develop academic resilience in response to racialised sterotypes about African American students’ academic inability (Griffin & Allen, 2006). For another example, academically resilient students who were at risk of dropping out of school were found to knowingly develop friendship with peers through participation in sports teams and purposefully distance themselves from delinquent peers (e.g., substance users) (Lessard, Fortin, Marcotte, Potvin, & Royer, 2009). In addition to supportive peers in school, significant adults like teachers, administrators, counsellors, student aides, mentors, and others participating in the school setting are in a unique position to promote the academic resilience of at-risk children (Christiansen, Christiansen, & Howard, 1997; Werner & Smith, 1992). On the one hand, caring, attentive, encrouaging, and

52  Seminal work supportive educators reportedly benefited the school performance of at-risk students, for example, students from low socioeconomic status in Turkey (Gizir & Aydin, 2009), expelled students in the US (N. Coleman, 2015), immigrant students of Hispanic descendant in the US (Brown, 2014), and gifted students from different cultural and lingusitic backgrounds in the US (Herr et al., 2012). On the other hand, academically resilient students knew where and how to get help and support from significant adults (e.g., teachers, psychologists), particularly in situations where they could not count on their parents (Lessard et al., 2009). Of all the significant others in school, teachers perform as enduring socialising influences because they enter students’ lives early, spend extended periods of time with them, and often remain close to them for years (Johnson, 2008). Emprical studies repeatedly suggest the paramount importance of student-teacher relationships to the resilience of at-risk students (Christiansen et al., 1997; Dryden et al., 1998; Johnson, 2008; Sharkey et al., 2008). Emprical evidence also points to the importance of the micro-level, everyday “little things” (Johnson, 2008, p. 385) in which teachers engage in the resilience process of at-risk students. One “little thing” is teachers’ advocacy for their students by mobilising existing support provisions available for at-risk students (Johnson, 2008). Similar “little things” have also been observed elsewhere. In the everyday work context, where there was a dearth of administrative support and whole-school attempt to foster student success, self-efficacious teachers established supportive relationships with Latino students by taking interest in students’ lives, encouraging students’ engagement, acknowledging students’ effort, holding high academic expectations for Latino students, providing academic support to these students, making themselves flexible and available to address students’ needs, and helping students cope with secondary stressors (Sosa & Gomez, 2012). In the everyday work context of inclusive education where support system was underdeveloped, teachers’ agency work in seeking resources to address the special needs of students with disabilities was found facilitative of the resilience process of these students (Mu, Hu, & Wang, 2017). Other “little things” within teachers’ everyday work context that contribute to student resilience include the learner-centred pedagogies and activities, culturally meaningful curriculum, flexbile and optimal level of challenge, assignment of important jobs to students as meaningful opportunites for them to participate and contribute, high expectations for all students, as well as social emotional learning (Morrison & Allen, 2007). The importance of schools in the resilience process of at-risk students is summarised by Liebenberg et al. (2016). They suggested the moderating effect of student experiences of school professionals and school contexts on environmental risks. They accentuated two important aspects. First, vulnerable children do better when school professionals, particularly teachers, build strong positive relationships with them. Second, schools can take direct control of interactional factors to provide a welcoming and safe environment for children who confront risks in their homes or neighbourhoods. Using data from school-going young people in Canada, New Zealand, and South Africa, Liebenberg et al. (2016) found that school staff played an important role in moderating the relationship between resilience resources and community/family risk in both Global North and Global

Seminal work 53 South contexts. This study takes into account staff respect for students’ culture, religion, and ethnicity when measuring students’ school experiences and also takes into account limited parent/caregiver presence when measuring family risks. Experiences of teacher respect were found to be of great importance to the resilience process of young people across all the three sites. Findings from multi-country analyses illustrate that Global North and Global South schools may facilitate resilience processes in similar and different ways. Prevailing conceptualisations, models, and contributing factors of child and youth resilience are often rooted in schools of psychology and public health. This does not necessarily exclude other schools from participating in resilience research. As Luthar et al. (2000, p. 555) advise: There also is value in cross-disciplinary research integrating insights from developmental psychology with expertise from anthropology, sociology, and cultural psychology. Such research can substantially augment our understanding of context-specific protective and vulnerability processes in child development, that is, those relatively unique to particular subcultural groups. Following the advice of Luthar and colleagues, I now make an attempt to discuss child and youth resilience as a sociological phenomenon.

An emergent sociology of resilience There are budding sociological debates around resilience in relation to class, race, gender, and power. This body of sociological work aligns with traditional psychological resilience research in that both schools accentuate that adversities threaten child wellbeing and often derail children from their normal trajectory of growth. The sociological school differs, however, in that it tends to indicate that some particular forms of adversity may target a particular group of children. This particular group is often impoverished, associated with an ethnic minority background, marginalised because of a gendered position, or contrued as powerless others in a certain social space. In other words, there is an unequal distribution of resilience resources in different child populations. Not only do children differ in their possessed quantities and qualities of resources, but also they differ in their capacities and ways of activating and using these resources. The school of scociology calls for the attention to how resilience resources are distributed, accessed, and used. Within the resilience process, societal inequalities ripple through the flow of capital, power, politicis, and participation. The gendered, raced, and classed social positioning and position-taking render the odds for positive adaptations a largely social formula. Therefore, sociology matters for resilience research.

Gender- and age-based resilience process The review study of Norris et al. (2002) concluded that female survivors of disasters fared worse than male survivors by demonstrating more post-disaster syndromes. The review also found that school-aged children were more vulnerable

54  Seminal work than preschoolers and adults in the context of disasters. These findings seem to indicate that females and school-aged children are more vulnerable in the face of severe adversities. The longitudinal study led by Werner (1989), however, has found a shifting balance with age and gender in the resilience process. During the first decade of life, boys appeared to be more vulnerable than girls, experiencing more medical, learning, and behavioural problems. During the second decade and especially at late adolescence, the balance shifted in favour of boys. At this age, girls were confronted with sex-role expectations and social pressures that produced serious problems associated with teen pregnancies and marriages. The balance appeared to shift once again at the age of 30 in favour of females, who reported fewer health problems and relied on more sources of support than men who seemed to rely more on their own resources. Findings from this longitudinal study indicate that gendered patterns of responses to adversity are fluid, rather than static, over time. Scientific evidence has shown that there are biological differences between boys and girls in the odds of exposure to certain risks. For example, many types of disabilities, such as autism, learning disabilities, developmental delays, speech/ visual/hearing impairments, and intellectual disabilities, are more visible in boys (U.S. Department of Education, 2005). Nevertheless, biology-based risks associated with gender are not fixed and immanent. Instead, boys and girls are socialised into different identities, roles, and positions as they grow. Such a socialisation process is fraught with shifting politics, power, and priorities over time that constantly define and redefine resilience practices associated with males and females. Therefore, biological risks based on gender and age can be rewritten through a socialised process of resilience.

Resilience as a classed project The longitudinal resilience research by Werner (1992) had discovered the significant social class differences in the adult health status of individuals who had experienced moderate-to-severe perinatal stress or delayed physical development in early childhood. Of all the participants of the longitudinal study, those who had been reared in poverty (30% of the research participants) reported serious health problems by the age of 32 years, whereas those who had grown up in middleclass homes and reported similar health problems by the same age only accounted for 10% of the research participants. Project Competence (Masten et al., 1999) found that socioeconomic advantages overlapped with parenting and cognitive skills as a predictor of multiple domains of competence. However, socioeconomic status had a partially unique relation to academic outcomes, beyond the effects of parenting or cognitive functioning, suggesting that it may be a marker of advantages accruing from the educational background of parents, their connections, and the education-enhancing opportunities afforded by such advantages. Recent evidence, though sporadic, seems to suggest similar results. For example, the vast majority of maltreated children has been found reared in low-income, highly impoverished environments (Cicchetti, 2013; Sedlak et al., 2010).

Seminal work 55 Social class/socioeconomic status matters in resilience building (Luthar et al., 2006). Poverty and social disadvantage are important distal risk factors and hence create potholes and distractions along the journey to resilience (Rutter, 2013). Global evidence consistently suggests that socioeconomic disadvantage is a deleterious factor responsible for inequalities in child wellbeing (UNICEF, 2016) and educational outcome (Erberber et al., 2015). Different families and communities may proffer disadvantaged children with different quantities and qualities of resources that may make a substantial difference to children’s outcomes across multiple domains – physical, psycholgocial, social, and educational. However, the advantage of more facilitative family and community environments tends to be more benefitical for children with fewest resources. For children from privileged environments, less domestic and community support may not necessarily cause a cascade of negative outcomes. For example, parental monitoring and after school activities are important to the healthy development of middle-class children, whereas the likelihood of these promotive factors exerting a significant impact on life trajectory is much smaller within an affluent domestic ecology (Ungar, 2013). Resultantly, availability of financial, educational, medical, material, socioemotional, and career support and opportunities in families and communities come to shape child and youth resilience (Ungar, 2008). These specific dynamics and textures of social structures account for very large changes in children’s responses to adversity and their outcomes in the face of adversity. Interestingly, in the study of Reay, Crozier, and Clayton (2009), some workingclass students who reportedly had no one expect much of them or support them were found to be academically successful in elite universities. When many other working-class students in middle-class contexts were found to be fish out of water, the academic success of the working-class students in elite universities was due at least in part to their successful coping with adversties. They were found to have developed “superhuman levels of motivation, resilience, and determination” (Reay et al., 2009, p. 1115).

Building resilience for ethnic minority children Children of ethnic minority backgrounds have long been plagued by structural deficiencies, lack of social services, and, in particular, exposure to racial discrimination. In the United Kingdom, a disproportionate number of foster children of an ethnic minority background often have to wait longer than White children for permanent adoption or do not achieve permanece at all (Leve et al., 2012). In the United States, African American children are less likely to receive mental health services than White children and are more likely to wait longer in foster care for permanent adoption (Anyon, 2011). Despite these structural deficiencies, some ethnic minority children continue to grow and thrive, showing resilient responses to adversities. Constructing a healthy ethnic identity through racial socialisation has been widely construed as a resilience factor for ethnic minority children exposed to risk. This body of knowledge largely emerges from empirical studies about African

56  Seminal work Amercian children and adolescents. For example, African American youths were found to prepare themselves for race-based bias through ethnic-racial socialisation and develop resilience that attenuated the criminogenic effects of racial discrimination, emotional distress, hostile views, and racialised norms (Burt et al., 2012). African American youths elsewhere were found to create resilience strategies to counter racial spotlighting and racial ignoring in schools by drawing on positive racial socialisation messages from parents and members of the Black community, developing an achievement ethos for educational excellence, and resisting racism in schools (Carter Andrews, 2012). Likewise, Afri-centric values and ethnic identity were found to contribute to the resilience of African American preadolescent females who were at risk of early sexual behaviour, adolescent pregnancy, and excessive domestic chores (Belgrave et al., 2000). Interestingly, findings from the study of Goel et al. (2014) seem to be at loggerheads with the aforementioned studies. Ethnic identity (African American versus Caucasian) did not moderate the relationship between child and youth resilience and the loss of resources following a residential fire. Neither did ethnic identity have significant main effect on overall resilience. The inconsistence here complicates the relationship between race and resilience, suggesting that the nature of adversity may also play a role in the resilience process of African American children and adolescents. Although there is adequate evidence on the role of racial socialisation and ethnic identity in the resilience process of African American children and adolescents, there is a dearth of investigation about race-based resilience factors for other ethnic minority young people. An exception can be found in an Australian study about African high schoolers from refugee backgrounds who encountered discrimination in schools and reported resilience strategies that included selfsufficiency, reliance on support network, and emphasis on optimism, growth, adaptation, and future (Oliver, 2012). Other exceptions include multi-racial studies that found the variance in the individual resilient qualities and predictive factors of resilience process amongst Anglo-American, Asian American, African American, and Latino American students (Wasonga et al., 2003) and that exmined the impact of neglect during childhood on the social, intellectual, and psychological functioning in adulthood of White, Black, and Hispanic participants (Widom et al., 2013). These studies, however, have shaky methodological and theoretical underpinnings behind the concept of resilience. Within the educational context, students from ethnic minority backgrounds may perform as well as their national peers despite racial discrimnation, language barrier, cultural politics, unfavourable socioeconomic status, amongst many other forms of aversions. For example, Morales (2010) worked with low socioeconomic urban students of colour and revealed their academic resilience that would otherwise prevent the majority of others with the same adverse backgrounds from succeeding in school. This is an empirical phenomenon of “immigrant paradox” (Berry et al., 2006b, p. 325), broadly defined as the counterintuitive finding that immigrant students adapt just as well or better than their national peers despite their poorer socioeconomic conditions. However, detailed analyses (Berry, Phinney, Sam, & Vedder, 2006a) have shown considerable

Seminal work 57 variation across countries and immigrant groups, providing limited support for immigrant paradox. Such variation points to the race-class intersectionality within resilience. Race is typically confounded with socioeconomic status or other risk and reslience factors (Norris et al., 2002). Studies that fail to control for such confounding factors appear to indicate that certain racial/ethnic groups are less likely to evidence resilience outcomes (Bonanno, Galea, Bucciarelli, & Vlahov, 2006). However, when socioeconomic differences are controlled, effects for racial/ethnic groups in both children (Hoven et al., 2005) and adults (Bonanno, Galea, Bucciarelli, & Vlahov, 2007) are often null. Therefore, child and youth resilience never has freestanding contributing factors independent of class and race. Over time, emergent attention has been paid to distal factors like class, race, and culture that influence proximal processes in relation to biopsychological triggers, expressions of personality, and cognitive styles (Ungar et al., 2013). Studies of child and youth resilience in multicultural contexts are beginning to identify unique features such as resistance to cultural hegemony and racial discrimination amongst ethno-racial minorities. These studies are commendable in that they take into account the diversity of immigrant-host societies and the overall life quality of both the immigrants and the settled populations. Schools in many multicultural societies have seen the multicultural education movement and culturesensitive curriculum change underway so that all children, irrespective of colour and culture, can find themselves properly represented in the classroom, without stereotyping or derogation, and with adequate portrayal of their culture and way of life. Despite the attributes of current research and practice, multiculturality of linguistically and culturally diverse settings is yet to be fully addressed in resilience work. Much effort is framed through the culturally sensitive, “sovled Rubik” model shown earlier. The multiculturally sensitive, “scrambled Rubik” model is yet to be developed through young people’s collective views in response to the multicultural tensions and strengths in the resilience processes. Such a multicultural model of resilience, if successful, can provide young people with ‘tools for conviviality’ (Illich, 1973), which, in other words, are means for learning to live and grow in contexts of unity-within-diversities and togetherness-of-differences in an era fraught with ever-greater challenge and change, and hence struggles for survivability and sustainability.

Resilience as a set of embodied dispositions: the role of habitus Diachronic perspectives consider child and youth resilience to be a quality influenced by both early life experiences and current life circumstances (Rutter, 1985). Neither of these in itself is determinative of positive outcomes, but in combination, they may serve to create a chain of practices that foster escape from adversity. Interestingly, resilience practices often occur as a set of cognitive, embodied, and sociological mechanisms that “may even be outside the realm of conscious and rational decision-making at all” (Walker, Gleaves, & Grey, 2006, p. 255). In this vein, the diachrony and unconsciousness behind resilience can be

58  Seminal work retheorised through the sociological notion of habitus. Bourdieu (1977, p. 72) defines habitus as: systems of durable, transposable dispositions, structured structures predisposed to function as structuring structures, that is, as principles of the generation and structuring of practices and representations which can be objectively regulated and regular without in any way being the product of obedience to rules, objectively adapted to their goals without presupposing a conscious aiming at ends or an express mastery of the operations necessary in order to attain them. For children reared in low socioeconomic conditions, their process of resilience can be fostered through counter-training the original disadvantaged habitus and forming a new habitus that directs children to various resources required for social upward mobility and engineers culturally anticipated and socially accepted responses to adversity. In this respect, a sociological perspective is a sine qua non to a complete picture of child and youth resilience. That is to say, practices that do not address habitus are missing a critical component of resilience (Abelev, 2009). Resilience, in turn, is one aspect of habitus that can play a significant role, consciously or unconsciously, in enabling children to become “active within a wide variety of theatres of social action” (Bourdieu, 1993, p. 87). Elsewhere, resilience has been understood through the concept of ‘human agency’ (Hitlin & Elder Jr, 2006; Rutter, 2007). This body of scholarship also agrees that resilience is not an individual trait but an ongoing process of negotiation and interplay between the individual and the environment. Such a process encompasses agency work, that is, what children do, rather than what they possess, to cope with the challenges that they face in the environment. Resultantly, the process of resilience focuses on coping mechanisms and the operation of agency (Rutter, 2007). Working with the notion of agency, resilience research requires a move from a focus on personal traits and external risks, to a focus on how external risks are dealt with and how environmental resources are employed (Rutter, 2006). In brief, resilience may spring from agency (Rutter, 2013), and agentic responses to adversity have been identified as key assets of resilience (Masten et al., 2009; Seccombe, 2002; Ungar, 2008). In recognition of the conceptual link between agency and resilience, Williams and Merten (2014) model the long-term effects of community structural adversities and social resources as predictors of adolescent depressive symptom trajectories via indirect effects of agency. Unless the resilience process engages in an understanding of the habitus and how it operates through powerful institutions, change in the overall trajectory is questionable. While the notion of agency is certainly helpful to a point, without taking into account the social structures within which children employ their agency, the opportunity to achieve resilience outcomes remains highly constrained within the local structures. Therefore, it is not useful to overemphasise the autonomy and motivation brought about by agency in the resilience process. The knowhow brought about by habitus in the

Seminal work 59 resilience process can go beyond rational thinking and reasoning. It is a system of cognitive schemata and bodily dispositions that help disadvantaged children navigate through adversities. In these situations, children are like “fish in water”, while they do not feel the weight of the water (Wacquant, 1989, p. 43). They are also like “birds flying against the wind”, while they do not know there is wind1 (Hong, 1572–1620).

Capital in child and youth resilience Habitus is constitutive of embodied dispositions that help at-risk children not only identify but also navigate to various types of resources required for coping with adversities. These valuable resources – economic, cultural, social, and symbolic – are what Bourdieu (1986) means by capital. There are budding empirical studies that draw on the notion of capital to investigate child and youth resilience. In the qualitative study of Barrett (2010), urban African American students considered that their religious involvement nurtured their resilience – an important form of embodied cultural capital that helped them stay focused and remain socially and academically resilient in face of poverty, violence, and disruption. In another study in the UK, Hernandez-Martinez and Williams (2013) qualitatively investigated two mathematics students’ transition from school to college and then to university. The authors described the two students as resilient because they were able to, in spite of their backgrounds that might put them at a disadvantage in the educational field, make use of their social and cultural capital within new fields. The authors also explained how reflexivity and agency were at the core of the resilience process of the two students. The students actively engaged with a reflective process in which they became aware of their need to break with the taken-for-granted social norms and therefore were able to develop certain social, cultural, and specifically, educational capital within the new field. Despite poverty and other threatening factors that put these students at risk statistically, these students drew on agency and capital to successfully negotiate the school-college-university transition. Social capital gained through networks of friends, family, and particular community was considered to be resources and opportunities instrumental to the resilience process of Australian Aboriginal and Anglophone girls (Bottrell, 2009a, 2009b) and Nigerian HIV-positive girls (Adegoke & Steyn, 2017). In Turkey, parents of academically non-resilient students were found to have inadequate social capital – poorer, ethnically more homogenous, and narrower networks (Çelik, 2016). These parents were also found to lack the (embodied) cultural capital and self-confidence in interacting with the community and the school. They did not feel entitled to ask for help and held a pessimistic and ambivalent attitude towards dominant institutions. This can be explained based on the exclusion and accumulated collective failure of this group in interactions with these institutions. In stark contrast, parents of academically resilient students were able to exercise high levels of caution and close monitoring through connections that gave them close involvement in their children’s schooling. These parents also

60  Seminal work limited their children’s interactions with the risky neighbourhood. Thus, their children socialised and assisted each other with coursework and information about scholarship opportunities and high schools. In contrast, academically nonresilient children almost exclusively socialised in Internet Cafes or on streets, or worked in sweatshops nearby and hence were exposed and adapted to unfavourable neighbourhoods. J. S. Coleman (1990, p. 300) conceptualises social capital as “the set of resources that inhere in family relations and in community social organisations and that are useful for the cognitive or social development of a child or a young person”. In line with this view, family has been viewed as one of the contexts for generating and accumulating social capital (Putnam, 1995, 2000). Drawing insight from social capital theory, Gofen (2009) developed the notion of family capital. Specifically, family capital is defined as “the ensemble of means, strategies, and resources embodied in the family’s way of life that influences the future of their children” and “is implicitly and explicitly reflected through behaviour, emotional processes, and core values” (Gofen, 2009, p. 115). It highlights not merely interpersonal relationships, as does social capital (J. S. Coleman, 1988, 1990; Putnam, 1995, 2000), or values, as does cultural capital. Moreover, it emphasise the domestic context that accommodates social and cultural capital. It attempts to capture all aspects of familial investment for the benefit of children’s future within a context of day-to-day family life. On the grounds of the notion of family capital, Gofen (2009) makes sense of family resilience (see Seccombe, 2002) by which families withstand and rebound from adversity.

Developing a sociological definition of resilience The past four decades have seen the theoretical and analytical frameworks of resilience research shifting from the individualistic paradigm to the ecological paradigm. The individualistic paradigm works with a binary, endogenous approach and considers resilience as a personal trait that a child either has or does not have. It blames vulnerable children for not being resilient in the face of adversity and commends resilient children for being psychologically or functionally superior despite threats and risks. The ecological paradigm differs due to its foci of analysis on not only the environmental deficiencies that limit child and youth resilience but also the environmental resources that liberate child and youth resilience. In light of the aforementioned two paradigms, most interventions designed to foster resilience in at-risk children focus on either activating personal resilient characteristics or enriching ecological resources to promote problem-solving and strategic coping. While building children’s personal characteristics and developing environmental factors are equally important, they may not be sufficient if they are not also coupled with the knowhow capacity that helps to realise individual strenghts, employ ecological resources, react in a culturally responsive and efficacious way within varying social spaces, and understand sociocultural norms, rules, grammars, and codes for interactional patterns within powerful institutions (Abelev, 2009).

Seminal work 61 In sociological terms, therefore, it would be difficult to understand personal capacity, internal cognition, and individual representation without understanding social forms, norms, and structures. It would also be difficult to understand psychosocial resources without understanding social class, power relations, as well as time and space. The portrayal of resilience remains incomplete without taking into account “structural deficiencies” (Seccombe, 2002, p. 385) that systematically place children in adversities. From a sociological perspective, then, it would be difficult to understand resilience as a social process without understanding its relations to histories, cultures, biographies, geographies, and, indeed, social orders that arbitrarily place certain groups of children at a structural disadvantage but bestow favourable positions on others without question. Therefore, resilience building is unlikely to achieve full success without attending to and making over the rules, principles, and forces within multi-layered and inter-nested social systems where children and adolescents live and learn. Working through a sociological lens, I redefine resilience as a process of socialisation that enculturates children into a set of dispositions (habitus) and capacities (capital) required for rebounding from adversities and performing well across multiple domains – physical, psychological, social, and educational. Habitus and capital in combination define a network, or configuration, of power relations within the social field where agents are consciously or unconsciously involved in social praxes (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992). If habitus and capital do come to shape children’s resilience into a form of social praxis, it is crucial to take into account power when discussing child and youth resilience. As Ungar (2010, p. 6) explicates: When it comes to challenging cultural presuppositions of what is and is not a measure of resilience among families it is not whether benchmarks exist but who has the power to decide whether they are relevant to a particular population. In this regard, resilience, like many other social phenomena, is subject to the vagaries of definitional one-upmanship. The individual with the most power in the mental health discourse (often professionals like family therapists) is best privileged to influence the naming of everyday patterns of interaction as either problem-enhancing (dropping out at age 16 and finding work) or health-promoting (dropping out as a way to transition quickly to achieve responsibility for one’s self). Herein lies the question as to whether resilience as it is modelled and measured represents a universal construct. Desirable outcomes from resilience process cannot be arbitrarily defined without taking into account power relations in research and practice. Rather, resilience outcomes are negotiated benchmarks of psychosocial growth co-constructed through interactions between the powerless group who are often marginalised, misrecognised, and othered and the powerful group who controls the psychosocial discourses that define what are desired in stressful conditions. Therefore, it is important to debate about the best possible criteria

62  Seminal work for good adaptation or adjustment. It is equally important to determine who should define these criteria and how to interpret findings in relation to power when different criteria are used (Masten & Powell, 2003). Meaningful resilience research and practice need to account for indigenous discourses that define positive outcomes as a local construct and encourage the inclusion of marginalised voices originating in communities not yet well heard. Nevertheless, rarely are fundamental questions of power, discourse, ontology, or epistemology raised when discussing child and youth resilience (Ungar, 2010). This creates a scholarly space to which sociology can contribute. It is this very sociological space on which the book is founded.

Note 1 Source: 鱼得水逝而相忘乎水，鸟乘风飞而不知有风。洪应明（1572–1620）《 菜根谭》(Fish in water forgets water; birds flying against wind do not know there is wind. Hong, Yingming (1572–1620) in The Roots of Wisdom)

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Seminal work 69 Ungar, M. (2013). Resilience, trauma, context, and culture. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, 14(3), 255–266. Ungar, M., Brown, M., Liebenberg, L., Othman, R., Kwong, W. M., Armstrong, M., & Gilgun, J. (2007). Unique pathways to resilience across cultures. Adolescence, 42(166), 287–310. Ungar, M., Ghazinour, M., & Richter, J. (2013). Annual research review: What is resilience within the social ecology of human development? Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 54(4), 348–366. doi:10.1111/jcpp.12025 Ungar, M., Lee, A. W., Callaghan, T., & Boothroyd, R. A. (2005). An international collaboration to study resilience in adolescents across cultures. Journal of Social Work Research and Evaluation, 6(1), 5–23. UNICEF. (2016). Fairness for children: A league table of inequality in child well-being in rich countries (Innocenti Report Card 13: children in the developed world). Florence: UNICEF Office of Research – Innocenti. Vygotsky, L. S. (1993). The fundamental problems of defectology (A. Blunden, Trans.). In R. W. Rieber (Ed.), The collected works of L. S. Vygotsky (pp. 29–51). New York, NY: Plenum Press. Wacquant, L. J. D. (1989). Towards a reflexive sociology: A workshop with Pierre Bourdieu. Sociological Theory, 7(1), 26–63. Walker, C., Gleaves, A., & Grey, J. (2006). Can students within higher education learn to be resilient and, educationally speaking, does it matter? Educational Studies, 32(3), 251–264. doi:10.1080/03055690600631184 Wang, M. C., Haertel, G. D., & Walberg, H. J. (1994). Educational resilience in inner cities. In M. C. Wang & E. W. Gordon (Eds.), Educational resilience in inner-city America: Challenges and prospects (pp. 45–72). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Wasonga, T., Christman, D. E., & Kilmer, L. (2003). Ethnicity, gender and age: Predicting resilience and academic achievement among urban high school students. American Secondary Education, 32(1), 62–74. Werner, E. E. (1989). High-risk children in young adulthood: A longitudinal study from birth to 32 years. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 59(1), 72–81. doi:10.1111/j.1939-0025.1989.tb01636.x Werner, E. E. (1992). The children of Kauai: Resiliency and recovery in adolescence and adulthood. Journal of Adolescent Health, 13(4), 262–268. doi:http://dx.doi. org/10.1016/1054-139X(92)90157-7 Werner, E. E. (2000). Protective factors and individual resilience. In J. P. Shonkoff & S. J. Meisels (Eds.), Handbook of early childhood intervention (2nd ed., pp. 115– 133). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Werner, E. E., & Smith, R. S. (1982). Vulnerable, but invincible: A longitudinal study of resilient children and youth. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Werner, E. E., & Smith, R. S. (1992). Overcoming the odds: High risk children from birth to adulthood. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Werner, E. E., & Smith, R. S. (2001). Journeys from childhood to midlife: Risk, resilience, and recovery. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Widom, C. S., Czaja, S., Wilson, H. W., Allwood, M., & Chauhan, P. (2013). Do the long-term consequences of neglect differ for children of different races and ethnic backgrounds? Child Maltreatment, 18(1), 42–55. doi:10.1177/1077559512460728 Williams, A. L., & Merten, M. J. (2014). Linking community, parenting, and depressive symptom trajectories: Testing resilience models of adolescent agency based

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3 Quantifying child and youth resilience1 Methodological conundrum and psychometric validation

The lack of a validated instrument for use with children and young people is a significant issue. It leaves social work practitioners struggling to quantify and understand the resources, assets, and needs of children and youth when assessing the impact which risks have upon their capacity to thrive. It further makes it difficult for social workers to be confident in their assessment of the ways in which the resources around youth may better be harnessed in their interventions. There is a pressing need for an easy to administer, contextually sensitive resilience measure which social workers can be confident will [sic] accurately identify the presence of protective resources located in the individual, relational, and contextual/cultural domains around children and youth. (Sanders, Munford, Thimasarn-Anwar, & Liebenberg, 2015, p. 2)

A steady stream of large-scale research has made various attempts to evaluate and promote child and youth resilience. Numerous measures have been developed to gauge various aspects of resilience, including potential risks, negative and positive outcomes, as well as protective processes. Resources and risks at the individual, familial, and societal levels are widely used indicators of child and youth resilience (Donnon & Hammond, 2007; Hjemdal, Friborg, Stiles, Martinussen, & Rosenvinge, 2006; Sun & Stewart, 2007). While the quantity of child and youth resilience measures is welcome, the quality of the measures is of concern. Ahern, Kiehl, Sole, and Byers (2006) reviewed six resilience measures and considered only one to be robust for studying resilience in adolescent population. A more recent review by Windle, Bennett, and Noyes (2011) notes the absence of a conceptually sound and psychometrically robust instrument for evaluating the resilience of primary school children. These reviews consistently indicate the dearth of validated instruments that focus on child and youth resilience. In addition to the challenge of developing robust child and youth resilience measures, there are competing contestations around operationalising and quantifying resilience. First, the symbiotic relationship between resilience and adversity (Mu & Hu, 2016c) necessitates the study of resilience in an adverse situation. Is it legitimate to measure resilience in a normal, non-risky situation? Second,

72  Quantifying child and youth resilience resilience is manifested in positive outcomes, or/and lack of negative outcomes in adverse conditions. Therefore, resilience is often indirectly measured through outcome variables and risk factors. Can resilience be measured directly as a construct in its own right? Third, resilience is a complex process that has both universally invariant and culturally and contextually dynamic features. How can we address cultural and contextual differences and particularities while making comparisons possible across cultures and contexts, or within multicultural contexts? In this chapter, I first discuss these methodological conundrums. I then report on the development and validation of the Child and Youth Resilience Measure (the Chinese version) that is used throughout this book to gauge the resilience of floating children and left-behind children in the migration context of China. I conclude this chapter with some implications for research and practice in quantifying child and youth resilience.

Can resilience be measured in a no-risk condition? Resilience has long been recognised as an important facilitator of child and youth wellbeing in time of significant change, challenge, and risk (Australian Catholic University National & Erebus International, 2008; DEEWR, Centre for Learning Innovation, Insight Consulting Partners Pty Ltd, & Australian Catholic University, 2004; McGrath & Noble, 2014; Southern Cross University’s Centre for Children and Young People, 2011; Ungar, Lee, Callaghan, & Boothroyd, 2005). While resilience was once understood as a personal trait, it is now commonly construed as “a dynamic process encompassing positive adaptation within the context of significant adversity” (Luthar, Cicchetti, & Becker, 2000, p. 543) and “a class of phenomena characterised by good outcomes in spite of serious threats to adaptation or development” (Masten, 2001, p. 228). In other words, resilience cannot be understood as the capacity of an individual but “the capacity of a dynamic system to withstand and recover from significant challenges that threaten its stability, viability, or development” (Masten, 2011, p. 494). Although colleagues use different wordings to define resilience, they commonly consider two critical conditions to be prerequisite to claim resilience: (1) exposure to significant adversity whether previously or currently, and (2) achievement of positive adaptation despite adversity (Luthar & Zigler, 1991; Masten, Best, & Garmezy, 1990; Masten, Hubbard, Herbers, & Reed, 2009; Masten & Powell, 2003; Werner & Smith, 1982, 1992; Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012). In a graphic language, resilience is a tug of war between significant adversities and positive adaptations. Children who are exposed to low levels of adversities and associated with positive outcomes “follow trajectories typically considered normative development and are generally not the focus of resilience research” (Fergus & Zimmerman, 2005, p. 400). Athough some exposures may not be dramatic, their durability over time can derail children from their normal development trajectory. Indeed, children themselves seem to be more concerned with everyday challenges than

Quantifying child and youth resilience 73 adults who seem to be more emphatic about severe adversities. As Newman (2002, p. 17) explicates: Adults tend to identify acute and major life events as stressful, whereas children emphasise the importance of daily hassles, for example bullying, parental arguments, and problems with friends . . . While acute life events may damage children, the available evidence suggests that relatively minor, but distressing and long-lasting adversities are more strongly associated with risk. I agree that children troubled by significant adversities warrant attention from resilience research. Yet I argue that a chronic adversity, though mild, necessiates resilience building to keep children on the track to success. Even if a single, mild adversity may not have a significant negative impact on children, a combination of two or more such adversities may markedly undermine children’s growth and reduce their odds of success. This is because additional adversities may amplify the influence of all other existing adversities (Rutter, 1979). Therefore, multiple adversities, though each being mild, necessitate resilience building to buffer their accumulative effect and limit or eliminate their negative outcomes for children. Furthermore, it is probably safe to assume that nobody grows up without potholes and distractions along their journey. Based on the assumption that everyone grows up with certain levels of risks, resilience building matters for all children and adolescents, not merely those plagued by significant risk factors. So what does “risk factors” mean? Risk factors denote those that decrease the likelihood of positive outcomes and undermine children’s development in one or more domains, whether physical, psychological, social, or educational (Garmezy, 1994). Over the years, colleagues have used different classifications to model risk factors. Kraemer et al. (1997) described three types of risk factors: (1) correlational risk factors that occur concurrently with poor performance; (2) predictive risk factors that occur before performance declines; and (3) causal risk factors that not only predict but also cause problems in performance in one or more domains. According to Fergus and Zimmerman (2005), risks facing young people can range from longterm, chronic factors to short-term, acute factors, or from those that may have immediate, acute effects on young people, to those threating effects of which may dissipate relatively quickly. Baldwin, Baldwin, and Cole (1990) proposed to distinguish proximal risk factors from distal risk factors. Proximal risk factors, such as inadequate nutrition, domestic discord, or parental antisocial behaviours, impinge directly on a child. Distal risk factors, such as social class, are not experienced directly by a child but are often mediated by proximal risk factors. Differently, Bonanno, Brewin, Kaniasty, and Greca (2010) considered proximal risk factors to be those occuring during the approximate period in which the potential traumatic events occur and distal risk factors to be those arising in the potential traumatic events’ aftermath.

74  Quantifying child and youth resilience Irrespective of inconsistencies in the definitions of distal risks and proximal risks, socioeconomic disadvantage is often referred to as a distal risk factor rather than a proximal risk factor. For example, congenital defects and low birth weight are more likely to occur when low-income mothers neglect to obtain suitable nutrition and medical care during pregnancy (Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012). Children born healthy can become at risk due to poverty or low parental educational level (Zolkoski & Bullock, 2012). Parental divorce is also a distal risk factor. What threats child wellbeing may be poor parenting resulted from divorce instead of divorce itself (Harris, Brown, & Bifulco, 1986) or unhappy separations instead of separation itself (Rutter, 2013). Another example of distal risk factor is migration, which can place children at risk of family dysfunction and social discrimination (Mu & Hu, 2016b). Many children in the migration context are at risk of slipping through the cracks of public education system and sliding towards an undesirable future (Mu & Hu, 2016b). In such a context, what are threatening are structural and systemic deficiencies instead of migration itself. In resilience research, risks are operationally defined in diverse ways. The diversity of the risks studied in resilience research presents a problem for comparing and interpreting results across studies. In response to this problem, tabulations of the number of adversies that have occurred recently or chronically, as well as cumulative calculations that combine different kinds of risk factors, are common practices to evaluate the level of exposure to multiple risk factors (Masten, 2001). Due to the diversity of risks, the relationship between resilience and adversity is a complex one. Resilience may lead up to certain positive outcomes in the face of a particular type of adversity, but may result in different outcomes when faced with another adversity. The relationship between resilience and adversity may vary with a range of context severity: from resilience against regular everyday hassles (e.g., work stress) found in the majority (e.g., resilience to a mild adversity) to resilience against occasional extensive stress (e.g., bereavement) found in minorities (e.g., resilience to a severe adversity) (Davydov, Stewart, Ritchie, & Chaudieu, 2010). Another issue germane to resilience-adversity relation is that exposure to the same adverse event may be a risk factor in a certain condition but become a potential resilience factor in another condition. For example, parental divorce may thwart many children, but it may improve the wellbeing of others if it removes family conflict from the domestic milieu (Fergus & Zimmerman, 2005). Despite the widely recognised relationship between resilience and adversity, many existing studies provide an assessment of strengths that are claimed to be relevant to all children regardless of the severity of adversity that these children face (Ungar & Liebenberg, 2011). What is problematic is that some resilience research does not take into account risk factors (e.g., Davey, Eaker, & Walters, 2003; Moljord, Moksnes, Espnes, Hjemdal, & Eriksen, 2014). Without having experienced any adversities, children associated with positive outcomes are understood as demonstrating competence and normal development, rather than resilience (Masten & Reed, 2002). In this vein, measurement of resilience needs to take into account risk factors.

Quantifying child and youth resilience 75

Can resilience be measured directly? There are different approaches to operationalising child and youth resilience. A recent literature review (Reavley, Bassilios, Ryan, Schlichthorst, & Nicholas, 2015) shows that more than half of the studies included in the review indirectly measured resilience, while about two-fifths of the studies directly assessed resilience as a construct in its own right. Some colleagues (e.g., Luthar & Cushing, 1999; Luthar & Zelazo, 2003; Masten, 2007) do not suggest measuring resilience directly. They argue that resilience can only be inferred from its two component constructs: risk and positive adaptation. Following their advice, much empirical work considers certain patterns of relationships between risk factors and positive outcomes to be indicators of resilience. A substantial number of studies use psychiatric symptoms (e.g., depression, anxiety) or the absence or reduction of these symptoms as a proxy for measuring resilience (Reavley et al., 2015). More commonly used indicators encompass individual attributes (such as insight, independence, creativity, humour, value, relationship, and initiative) (Hurtes & Allen, 2001), personality strengths (such as coping skills, ego integration, impulse control and responsibility, self-esteem, and social interaction) (Bromley, Johnson, & Cohen, 2006), resourceful characteristics (such as adaptability, optimism, self-efficacy, and tolerance of difference) (Mowder, Cummings, & McKinney, 2010), self-perceived positive sense (such as sense of mastery, sense of relatedness, emotional reactivity) (Prince-Embury & Courville, 2008), and individual qualities (such as self-worth and personality) (Davey et al., 2003). Other colleagues, however, have less positive views towards measuring resilience indirectly. They argue that indirect measurement confuses resilience and positive adjustment (Fergus & Zimmerman, 2005). Resilience is the process of achieving the positive outcomes not the positive outcomes themselves. Critiques of indirectly measuring resilience elicit some effort to directly measure resilience as a construct in its own right. For example, Shelton (2009) used the Polk Resilience Patterns Scale (Polk, 2000) to measure resilience as a multidimensional construct consisting of dispositional, relational, situational, and philosophical patterns of thought. Regrettably, the Polk Resilience Patterns Scale has no, if any, application elsewhere. Another example of direct measurement of child and youth resilience is the experimental study by Chen et al. (2014). The authors evaluated the effect of post-earthquake interventions on Chinese adolescents’ psychological resilience. However, their use of the Connor-Davidson Resilience Scale (CD-RISC) invites some questions. Connor and Davidson (2003) designed and developed the CD-RISC to evaluate the resilience of Western adults. Chen et al. (2014) did not justify the age- and context-appropriateness of using CDRISC to gauge the resilience of adolescents in China. Mindful of the age-, culture-, and context-appropriateness of measuring child and youth resilience, Mu and Hu (2016b, 2016c) validated the simplified Chinese version of the Child and Youth Resilience Measure (CYRM). Multifarious attempts have been made to indirectly measure resilience, but direct measurement is less common (Hjemdal et al., 2006). Indirect measurement

76  Quantifying child and youth resilience takes into account different aspects of positive or negative outcomes, and hence comparisons across different studies are difficult. In contrast, direct measurement makes comparative analysis less expensive, but may run into the problem of context- and culture-blindness. Apparently, researchers are troubled by a methodological conundrum: whether to measure resilience directly or indirectly. When children and adolescents do well in the face of adversities statistically associated with contrary outcomes, approaches that attribute successful adaptations post hoc solely to the positive process labelled as resilience have their own problems. Such approaches may overlook the complexity of successful adaptions and miss many other factors that contribute to success in precarious conditions. Therefore, I argue that direct measurement of resilience merits more scholarly work in an era when indirect measurement of the notion pervades the literature. Regardless of direct or indirect measurement, culture-variances need to be taken into account when quantifying resilience.

Culture-sensitive approach to measuring resilience Resilience is quantifiable, whether directly or indirectly. Strikingly, very few instruments have emerged out of, and accounted for, the heterogeneity of culture and context. This culture-blind approach runs into problems when faced with contextual and cultural dynamics, diversities, and complexities. At the epistemological level, Ungar and colleagues (Ungar, 2008; Ungar, Ghazinour, & Richter, 2013) have repeatedly reminded us of the moderation effect of culture and context on resilience building. They argue that resilience resources work best only within the unique cultural context where the resources emerge. At the methodological level, the same items may measure different resilience dimensions in different populations if the instrument does not take into account cultural fabrics and textures. For instance, the same items load on different resilience dimensions for the Australian sample (Sun & Stewart, 2007) and the US sample (Sharkey, You, & Schnoebelen, 2008). The item “I feel bad when someone gets their feelings hurt” loads on the sub-dimension of “empathy” for the Australian sample, while the item loads on the sub-dimension of “interpersonal skills” for the US sample. Such an inconsistency suggests that resilience has different conceptual meanings in different cultures. The epistemological and methodological concerns explicitly pinpoint the urgency to design culture- and context-sensitive measures of child and youth resilience. Despite the progress made in measuring child and youth resilience, there continues to be of great need for culturally appropriate measures, particularly for the benefit of international comparative research and cross-cutlural research (Betancourt, Meyers-Ohki, Charrow, & Hansen, 2013; Masten, 2011). It would be epistemologically wrong to claim the pan-cultural validity of a child and youth resilience measure. This does not necessarily indicate zero possibility of measuring resilience across cultures. Ungar and colleagues (Ungar, 2005, 2011, 2013; Ungar et al., 2007; Ungar et al., 2005) have risen up to the challenge and conducted some seminal work to understand, evaluate, and promote child and youth resilience across cultures. By virtue of their multinational study, Ungar and colleagues

Quantifying child and youth resilience 77 (Ungar, 2008; Ungar et al., 2008) have developed the culture-sensitive CYRM. Numerous studies in different contexts have validated and used the measure (Daigneault, Dion, Hébert, McDuff, & Collin-Vézina, 2013; Jones & Lafreniere, 2014; Liebenberg, Ungar, & Vijver, 2012; Munford & Sanders, 2016; Sanders et al., 2015; Theron, Liebenberg, & Malindi, 2014; Xiang, Tian, Wang, & Han, 2014). Nevertheless, there are very few attempts to validate the CYRM in nonEnglish-speaking contexts, with only a handful of exceptions (Daigneault et al., 2013; Xiang et al., 2014). Of particular relevance to this chapter is the work of Xiang et al. (2014), who have attempted to validate the simplified Chinese version of the 28-item CYRM. However, the authors did not report and justify the methodology behind their translation work. The Exploratory Factory Analysis reported six factors with eigenvalue above 1, but the authors did not defend their decision to perform the oblique rotation with a fixed number of three factors. In the Confirmatory Factor Analysis, all the model fit indices associated with the three-factor measurement model did not reach the cut-off value of .90. In addition, measurement model invariance across different groups remains unknown. The authors tested the predictive validity of the translated CYRM-28 by correlating each of the three dimensions of resilience with two outcome variables, namely prosocial behaviours and depression. However, both outcome variables were associated with a Cronbach’s alpha value below .70. The low internal consistency reliability of the outcome variables challenges the assumed predictive validity of the translated CYRM-28. Irrespective of all these shortcomings, the authors seem to confuse predictive validity and convergent validity. The effort of Xiang et al. (2014) to contextualise the CYRM-28 in a Chinese setting is commendable, but the aforementioned methodological issues shake the validity and reliability of their work. In my project, I chose to translate and validate the 12-item CYRM (Liebenberg, Ungar, & LeBlanc, 2013) instead of the 28-item CYRM (Ungar & Liebenberg, 2011) due to ethical and methodological considerations. The short version can be incorporated into a survey without substantially increasing the length of the survey. Lengthy surveys have long been criticised for burdening respondents, threatening response rate, and eroding data quality (Galesic & Bosnjak, 2009; Sharp & Frankel, 1983). In response to the drawbacks of lengthy survey, Liebenberg et al. (2013) developed the CYRM-12 in order to substantially reduce the length of the CYRM-28 and meet the need of omnibus surveys where the CYRM-28 can be unacceptably long. By translating the CYRM-12 and validating the translated measure, my study not only opens up opportunities to evaluate the resilience of children and adolescents in Mainland China, but also makes cross-national comparisons possible.

Validation of the Chinese version of the CYRM-12: research context, design, procedure, and results The exponential growth of urbanisation in China has created a massive scale of rural-to-urban migration. Young and middle-aged adults constitute an overwhelming proportion of the internal migrants and many of them are parents.

78  Quantifying child and youth resilience Some migrant parents choose to bring their child(ren) to cities when they move away from their rural hometown. Nevertheless, current policies create problems for these children to have free access to urban public schools and urban social services unless these migrant families have obtained urban Hukou (Household Registration Status) or completed all the paperwork required by local authorities. Children in this context are termed as “floating children” (Mu & Jia, 2016, p. 409; Mu et al., 2013, p. 383) – a term that captures their sense of rootlessness in the urban social space. Due to various educational and social problems associated with floating children, some migrant parents have to leave their children behind in rural hometown when they move to work in cities. Children in this context are called left-behind children, the caregivers of whom are often grandparents or extended family members in local communities (Hu, Lonne, & Burton, 2014). The total number of floating and left-behind children is approaching 100 million (National Women’s Association, 2013), accounting for one third of the total population of children in Mainland China. This population is not peripheral but phenomenal. The limited space here regrettably precludes detailed discussion (for a detailed discussion, see Preface and Chapter 1), but it is perhaps safe to claim that the status of being floating or left behind constitutes one of the most significant risk factors to child and youth wellbeing in contemporary China (Hu et al., 2014; Mu & Jia, 2016). It is by no means my intention to minimise the importance of other risk factors. When I operationalised the Chinese CYRM-12, I took into account many other risk factors that are relevant across individual, familial, and social contexts. Details of risk factors will be reported momentarily. Data reported in this chapter were drawn from my larger project about social wellbeing and resilience of Chinese children, floating children and left-behind children in particular. The focus here is on the translation, back-translation, and validation of the CYRM-12 in the context of Mainland China. Throughout the research process, I worked with colleagues within my academic network, teachers in my partner research schools, and students from different parts of Mainland China. Major statistical analyses include descriptive statistics, internal consistency reliability test, Exploratory Factor Analysis, Confirmatory Factor Analysis, and Structural Equation Modelling. The software SPSS 23 with the AMOS-23 addon was used to perform these statistical analyses.

Text translation, back-translation, and face validity of the Chinese CYRM-12 In the first step, I worked with a bilingual colleague and each of us translated the original, English version of the CYRM-12 (Liebenberg et al., 2013) into simplified Chinese. Although word-for-word correspondence between the original English texts and the translated simplified Chinese texts is important, it was not the central concern of the translation work here. Instead, the central concern was to respect the intention of the original English texts and to convey their sense as faithfully as possible into the simplified Chinese texts. Working with this translation principle and taking into account that the original CYRM-12 was written

Quantifying child and youth resilience 79 in lay language, we used semantic translation rather than literal translation. The latter strategy is more suitable for translating legal, technical, and/or scientific texts, which is not the case here. In the second step, we worked collaboratively to read, compare, and evaluate the two copies of the translated CYRM-12. The two copies were largely consistent in meaning. However, the item “I try to finish what I start” looked awkward and clumsy when directly translated into simplified Chinese as “我尽量完成我已 经开始做的事情”. We agreed to rework this item, and eventually came up with a paraphrase of the original translation. The paraphrased wording is “我做事会 有始有终”. As for inconsistent uses of expressions (e.g., adverbs, adjectives), we collaboratively re-read the original English texts and negotiated the best possible translation. In this way, the two copies of the translation were systematically crosschecked and mutually verified. Based on repeated discussions, we developed a commonly agreed simplified Chinese version of the CYRM-12. In the next step, I invited another two bilingual colleagues to back-translate (van de Vijver & Hambleton, 1996) the simplified Chinese version of the CYRM12 into English. Both colleagues completed their PhD in education in Australia. One majored in English literary before her PhD, and the other one majored in educational administration before her PhD. At the time of back-translation, both colleagues were working as academics at a leading Chinese university with an established strength in educational studies. Both of them claimed to have no previous knowledge about the CYRM-12. After back-translation, we formed a panel and collaboratively read, compared, and evaluated the two copies of the back-translated, English version of the CYRM-12. The panel agreed that the two back-translated copies did not differ in meaning, except some minor differences in the choice of adverbs and sentence structures (e.g., “My parents/caregivers know me a lot” versus “My parents/caregivers know me very well”; “I can solve problems without harming myself or others” versus “I am able to solve problems without doing harm to myself or others”). The panel also agreed that the two back-translated copies were coherent with the original English texts. This backtranslation exercise justifies, at least to a certain extent, the face validity of the translated, simplified Chinese version of the CYRM-12. After translation and back-translation, I moved on to test the contextappropriateness of the translated, simplified Chinese version of the CYRM-12. To this end, I worked with schoolteachers and students – an exercise in accordance with the recommendation of Ungar et al. (2005) to evaluate the cultural relevance of the CYRM for different populations. Testing the age-appropriateness of the Chinese language used in the translated CYRM-12 is particularly important because the sampled children in my study (Grades Four to Nine) are younger than those (Grades Seven to 12) participated in the study of Liebenberg et al. (2013), who developed the original, English CYRM-12. I invited two Chinese literacy teachers to evaluate the language quality of the translated CYRM-12. At the time of this work, both teachers were from my partner research schools. One teacher was from a primary school in Henan province and another one was from a junior high school in Beijing. The primary

80  Quantifying child and youth resilience school in Henan has a large proportion of left-behind children in its student body while the junior high school in Beijing has a relatively high proportion of floating children in its student body. The partner research schools recommended the two teachers to me. Upon my invitation, the two teachers voluntarily engaged in this evaluation work. They both have had more than ten years of experience in teaching Chinese literacy and arguably have a good understanding of children’s age-appropriate level of Chinese literacy. No issues in terms of the language quality of the translated CYRM12 emerged from the evaluation by the two teachers. Both teachers considered the language used in the translated CYRM-12 to be age-appropriate and intelligible to Grades Four to Nine children. Consider their comments quoted below as examples. The two comments were from the primary school teacher and the junior high school teacher, respectively. Very clear. Nothing to worry about. Grade Four and older students can understand it without any problem. There are no new words. Students can complete it quickly. The questionnaire was well designed: short and concise. It’s easy for students to understand and respond to. There’s nothing odd. Overall, it is really a good survey. Well-done! Next, I pre-piloted the Chinese CYRM-12 on a selected cohort of students. On my request, the two aforementioned partner schools selected a total number of six children from Grades Four to Nine, including one child from each grade. In this way, three left-behind children from the primary school in Henan and three floating children from the junior high school in Beijing voluntarily participated. It should be acknowledged that selection of these children took into account their Chinese literacy course score, which was, or was close to, the median of the most recent Chinese literacy test result. Each school then arranged one teacher to work individually with each child. The two teachers who participated in the aforementioned evaluation agreed to administer this work. Based on children’s consent, both teachers audio-recorded these children’s comments on the language quality of the translated CYRM-12. In general, these children considered the translated simplified Chinese version of the CYRM-12 to be easy to understand and complete. Interestingly, however, all of the three primary school children in the Henan school and the Grade 12 child in the Beijing school were somewhat confused about the translated item “I know where to go in the community to get help” (我知道在社区里应该去哪寻求帮助). They reportedly did not clearly understand the word “community” (社区), and hence they did not know how to respond to the item. Their comments include “What does community mean?” “Does community mean the area where my home is?” and “There seems to be no community around my home.” These comments are not surprising, given that ‘community’ is an emergent concept in the Chinese context. To address

Quantifying child and youth resilience 81 this issue, I enclosed the wording “或社会上 (or in society)” within brackets after the wording “社区里 (in the community)”. We consider the word “社 会 (society)” to be more familiar to Chinese children. Although the meaning of the word “society” is different from that of the word “community”, the additional information provided in the brackets contributes to contextualised meaning-making of the item. Through a rigorous process of translation, back-translation, collaborative work with colleagues and teachers, as well as a pre-pilot on students, the face validity of the Chinese CYRM-12 can be claimed. Piloting is an important component of measurement development as it helps to detect any anomalies associated with the measure and provides statistical recommendations for further improvement of the instrument before investing major time and resources into the main study. I then organised a small-scale pilot study to test the internal consistency reliability of the Chinese CYRM-12.

Internal consistency reliability of the Chinese CYRM-12 To evaluate the internal consistency reliability of the Chinese CYRM-12, I snowballsampled participating children through my friendship networks. A total of 86 (57% female) floating children and left-behind children responded to an online survey. Items of the translated CYRM-12 were rated on a five-point scale, which is consistent with the original CYRM-12. At the time of the data collection, these children studied in Grades Four to Nine and ranged in age between nine and 16 years, with a mean age of 12.70 (SD = 1.75). The Cronbach’s alpha of the 12 items included in the original CYRM-12 is .75 (Liebenberg et al., 2013). Cronbach’s alpha of the 12 translated items (.90) is higher than that of the original items. According to Kline (1999), this value is indicative of a high internal consistency reliability of the translated CYRM-12. Removal of any item will not increase the Cronbach’s alpha value, with the only exception of the item “I am able to solve problems without harming myself or others (我不会在伤害自己或他人的基础上来解决问题).” With that being said, removal of this item would only marginally increase Cronbach’s alpha from .90 to .91. Therefore, I decided to retain this item. The original CYRM-12 gauges the notion of resilience as a one-factor latent variable with 12 reflective indicators/items. This does not mean that resilience is conceptually a unidimensional phenomenon. Rather, the CYRM-12 operationalises resilience into a statistically unidimensional construct. As for a single-factor construct with a relatively large number of items, the Split-Half test can be another appropriate measure of internal consistency reliability. The test, in this regard, is useful in the current study to further check the internal consistency reliability of the translated CYRM-12. The Split-Half test yields satisfactory results, with both the Spearman-Brown Coefficient and Guttman Coefficient equal to .87, indicating the high internal consistency reliability of the measure.

82  Quantifying child and youth resilience

Exploratory Factor Analysis (EFA) After testing the internal consistency reliability of the translated CYRM-12, I performed EFA to examine the underlying pattern within the 12 translated items. I collected data for EFA through an online survey and approached 437 children through convenience sampling. These children all previously participated in my project about social wellbeing and resilience building of floating children and left-behind children. At the time of the data collection, these children either studied in my partner research schools in Beijing and Henan or enrolled in my partner research community schools in Beijing. The four research partner schools in Beijing include two junior high schools located in Xicheng district and Xuanwu district respectively, and two primary schools both located in Haidian district. The four partner research community schools, all run by an NGO in Beijing, include two schools in Xicheng district, one in Xuanwu district, and one in Daxing district. These community schools provide free after-school hour educational programs for floating children living within their service catchment area. In Henan, one rural primary school was involved. The 437 children (58.1% female) from Beijing and Henan ranged in age between nine and 16 years, with a mean age of 12.16 (SD = 1.65). Taking into account the use of non-probability sampling and the data’s violation of the statistical assumption of normal distribution, I conducted Principal Component Analysis (PCA) (Hotelling, 1933; Pearson, 1901) on the 12 translated items. Kaiser’s eigenvalue-above-one criterion (Kaiser, 1960), Cattell’s scree test of the inflexion point (Cattell, 1966), and Horn’s parallel analysis (Horn, 1965; O’Connor, 2000) were also used to help with the decision making regarding the number of factor(s) to be extracted from the 12 translated items. The orthogonal rotation of varimax was used when analysing the underlying pattern within the 12 translated items. The varimax approach attempts to maximise the dispersion of loadings within factors and to load smaller number of items onto one factor (Field, 2009). In other words, varimax tends to result in more factors when compared to other rotation approaches. If varimax indeed results in a single-factor solution, the robustness of the single-factor model can be claimed. Because the original CYRM-12 was designed to gauge resilience as a single-factor construct with 12 items, I deliberately selected the varimax approach as a parsimonious method, hypothesising a one-factor solution emerging from varimax rotation. The Kaiser-Meyer-Olkin (KMO) measure verifies the sampling adequacy for EFA. The value of KMO equals .94, which is well above the acceptable limit of .50 (Kaiser, 1974). The statistically significant result from the Bartlett’s test of sphericity (χ2 = 2852.14, df = 66, p < .001) indicates that the correlations between the 12 translated items are sufficiently large, which suggests the statistical basis for performing EFA. There is only one factor with an eigenvalue above 1 (6.51), explaining 54.26% of the total variance of the 12 translated items. Cattell’s scree test of the inflexion point also indicates the appropriateness of the one factor solution. There is clearly only one point of inflexion,

Quantifying child and youth resilience 83 occurring at the second data point. There is a sharp descent in the curve from the first data point to the second, followed by a tailing off at the second data point (see Figure 3.1). Parallel analysis was then conducted using the permutation approach because the data violate the statistical assumption of normal distribution. Only one eigenvalue (6.51) associated with PCA is statistically significantly higher than the eigenvalue at the 95th percentile (1.34) associated with parallel analysis (see Table 3.1). This also results in a one-factor solution. In brief, PCA, Kaiser’s eigenvalue-above-one criterion, Cattell’s scree test of inflexion point, and parallel analysis consistently suggest that resilience gauged by the Chinese CYRM-12 can be specified as a single-factor construct with 12 reflective items.

Eigenvalue

6

4

2

0 1

2

3

4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Component Number

Figure 3.1 Scree plot of the 12 “components” of resilience Table 3.1 Parallel analysis – eigenvalues of the 12 “components” of resilience Root

Raw data

Mean

95th Percentile

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

6.51 0.95 0.66 0.63 0.57 0.57 0.45 0.43 0.40 0.31 0.28 0.23

1.28 1.21 1.15 1.10 1.06 1.01 0.97 0.93 0.89 0.85 0.80 0.75

1.34 1.26 1.19 1.14 1.09 1.04 1.00 0.96 0.92 0.89 0.84 0.79

84  Quantifying child and youth resilience Internal consistency reliability was re-tested on the sample of 437 children. Cronbach’s alpha of the 12 translated items is .92. Removal of any item will not increase the Cronbach’s alpha value. This evidences the high internal consistency reliability of the Chinese CYRM-12. The Split-Half reliability test also reports satisfactory results, with both the Spearman-Brown Coefficient and Guttman Coefficient equal to .90, consistently suggesting the high internal consistency reliability of the measure.

Confirmatory Factor Analysis (CFA): construct validity of the Chinese CYRM-12 The sample used for CFA was drawn from my project about student wellbeing and resilience in China. The project sample consists of 2,632 students (2.0% ethnic minority) ranging in age from nine to17 years (Mage = 12.40, SD = 1.84). Female children account for 49% of the sample. At the time of the data collection, the sampled children studied in Grades Four to Nine in public schools across six provinces and one municipality in Mainland China. These seven sites were selected because of three reasons. First, these provinces and municipality are located in different geographical regions across China, with Liaoning in the Northeast, Ningxia in the Northwest, Henan in the centre, Yunan and Guizhou in the Southwest, Fujian in the South, and Beijing in the North. The selection of these sites helps to capture the demographic diversity of the target population as much as possible. Second, the left-behind children and floating children phenomena are becoming increasingly visible in these provinces and municipality (Mu & Hu, 2016c). Third, social economic and educational disadvantage is not uncommon in some of these provinces, particularly in Ningxia, Yunan, Henan, and Guizhou. The selection of these sites helps to capture the diverse life challenges that the sampled children may encounter. One primary school and one junior high school from each site participated in my project. The only exception is Ningxia, where there was no participating junior high school. All of these participating schools are located in relatively low socioeconomic settings. Upon my request, the participating primary schools sent the online survey link to their Grades Four to Six students and the participating junior high schools sent the link to their Grades Seven to Nine students. The sampled students were reportedly associated with diverse risk factors, including experiences of being left behind (231, 8.8%), being floating (495, 18.8%), social discrimination (270, 10.3%), bullying (297, 11.3%), economic disadvantage (518, 19.7%), dead mum (7, 0.3%), dead dad (17, 0.6%), divorced parents (77, 2.9%), mum with severe chronic disease(s) (37, 1.4%), dad with chronic disease(s) (35, 1.3%), natural disasters (69, 2.6%), disabilities (49, 1.9%), psychological problems (101, 3.8%), and learning difficulties (530, 20.1%). A single risk factor may not have a significant impact on children. However, a combination of two or more stressors can substantially reduce the likelihood of children’s positive

Quantifying child and youth resilience 85 outcomes (Ungar, 2008; Ungar et al., 2007; Ungar & Liebenberg, 2011; Ungar et al., 2008). This is due to the accumulative effect from additional stressors, which amplify the negative influence of all other existing stressors (Rutter, 1979). In the project sample, 411 (15.6%) children were associated with at least three risk factors. Given the focus of the current chapter, only floating children and left-behind children were included in the analysis. Of all the floating children and left-behind children sampled in the larger project, 18 cases have too many missing values to be included in the analysis here. They were therefore removed from the current analysis. Resultantly, the sample used for CFA consists of 708 students (52.3% female, 1.7% ethnic minority), including 486 floating children and 222 leftbehind children. At the time of the data collection, these children lived across all the seven research sites, ranged in age between nine and 17 years (Mage = 12.64, SD = 1.92), and studied across all Grades from Four to Nine. Apart from being floating children or left-behind children, these students were associated with various forms of adversities, for example, disability (11, 1.6%), psychological problem (23, 3.2%), learning difficulty (94, 13.3%), divorced parents (23, 3.2%), mum dead (1, 0.1%), mum very sick (2, 0.3%), dad very sick (1, 0.1%), social discrimination (172, 24.3%), bullying (44, 6.2%), economic disadvantage (138, 19.5%), and natural disaster (17, 2.4%). In this sample, 194 (27.4%) students were associated with at least three risk factors. The percentage is higher than that in the sample of the larger project (15.6%). Using the sample of 708 children, I once again tested the internal consistency reliability of the Chinese CYRM-12. The results are: Cronbach’s alpha (.91), Spearman-Brown Coefficient (.88), and Guttman Coefficient (.88). A single-factor measurement model for the construct of resilience was then specified in CFA as a latent variable with the 12 translated items. The measurement model is shown in Figure 3.2. The model has a significant chi-square value of 386.48 (df = 108, p < .001). This is not surprising because the chisquare goodness-of-fit test is sensitive to large sample sizes. Despite the significant chi-square value, the ratio of chi-square to degrees of freedom (χ2/ df = 3.78) is situated within the recommended range from 2.00 (Wheaton, Muthén, Alwin, & Summers, 1977) to 5.00 (Tabachnick & Fidell, 2007), indicating the goodness-of-fit of the model. Incremental model fit measures are approaching, equal to, or higher than the suggested cut-off value of .90 (Bentler, 1990), with Comparative Fit Index (CFI) equal to .93, Incremental Fit Index (IFI) equal to .93, Normed Fit Index (NFI) equal to .90, Relative Fit Index (RFI) equal to .88, and Tucker-Lewis Index (TLI) equal to .91. The value of the parsimonious model fit index – Parsimony Comparative Fit Index (PCFI) equals .76, which is also satisfactory. The value of Root Mean Square Error of Approximation (RMSEA) is .06, lower than the alert value of .08 (Ho, 2006). All these measures are indicative of a good model fit. The convergence of the single-factor measurement model of the Chinese CYRM-12 supports the construct validity of the measure.

86  Quantifying child and youth resilience .32 I have people I look up to.

e1 .56

Getting an education is important to me.

e2 .39

My parents/caregivers know a lot about me.

.56 .75

I try to finish what l start.

e4 .34

.62

I am able to solve problems without harming myself or others.

.73

e5 .56

.58 I know where to go in the community to get help.

.75 Resilience

e3 .53

.71 .71 .69

I feel l belong at my school.

e7 .51

My family stands by me during difficult times.

.67 .74

e6 .50

e8 .48

My friends stand by me during difficult times.

e9 .45

.70 I am treated fairly in my community.

e10 .54

I have opportunities to develop skills that will be useful later in life.

e11 .48

I enjoy my cultural and family traditions.

e12

Figure 3.2 The single-factor measurement model of the Chinese CYRM-12

Structural Equation Modelling (SEM): multi-group analysis and measurement invariance of the Chinese CYRM-12 After CFA, I conducted multi-group analysis through SEM to test the assumption of psychometric invariance across various demographic cohorts and different risk factors. The results are summarised in Table 3.2.

Quantifying child and youth resilience 87 Table 3.2 Multi-group analysis – measurement model of the Chinese CYRM-12 Groups Boys & Girls Primary schoolers & Junior high schoolers ≥ 3 risk factors & < 3 risk factors Floating & Left-behind Economic disadvantage & Affluence

χ2 change

p

NFI

RFI

IFI

TLI

CFI

RMSEA

5.07

.65

6.25

.51

11.98

.10

8.55

.29

8.59

.28

.91 .91 .91 .91 .90 .90 .92 .91 .90 .90

.89 .89 .89 .89 .88 .88 .90 .90 .88 .88

.93 .93 .94 .94 .93 .93 .94 .94 .93 .93

.92 .92 .92 .93 .91 .91 .93 .93 .91 .91

.93 .93 .93 .93 .93 .93 .94 .94 .93 .93

.06 .06 .06 .06 .06 .06 .05 .05 .06 .06

Notes: 1 Chi-square change between the configural model and the metric model, with a degree of freedom change of 11. 2 For each multi-group analysis, two rows of model fit indices are reported, with the first row reporting the model fit indices associated with the configural model and the second row reporting those associated with the metric model.

Comparison was conducted between the configural model and the metric model. In the configural model, only one regression weight is constrained to be equal and invariant across groups, whereas the other regression weights for each group are free to vary independently of its counterpart groups. In contrast, the metric model constrains all regression weights to be equal across groups and one regression weight to be invariant across groups. Demographic variables included in the multi-group analysis are gender (male versus female) and school level (primary versus junior high). The psychometrics (e.g., regression weights, model fit indices) remain statistically invariant between the configural model and the metric model when multi-group analysis was conducted on boys and girls as well as on primary schoolers and junior high schoolers. Multi-group analysis was also conducted to evaluate the robustness of the Chinese CYRM-12 across various risk contexts. The psychometric invariance between the configural model and the metric model is evident when multi-group analysis was conducted on paired groups, including the group with three or more risk factors versus the counterpart group with less than three risk factors; the floating children group versus the left-behind children group; and the socioeconomically disadvantaged group versus the socioeconomically affluent group. Groups with small sample sizes were not included in the multi-group analysis (e.g., dead mum, dead dad, sick mum, sick dad, divorced parents, disability, psychological problem, learning difficulty, bullying, and natural disaster). These results show that the Chinese CYRM-12 remains conceptually and statistically invariant irrespectively of respondents’ gender, school level, and levels and types of exposure to risks.

88  Quantifying child and youth resilience

Convergent validity of the Chinese CYRM-12 The Chinese CYRM-12 remains psychometrically stable when used on different Chinese samples of similar age ranges (Mu & Hu, 2016a, 2016c; Mu, Hu, & Wang, 2017). One way to support the construct validity of the Chinese CYRM-12 is to test its convergent validity. By definition, convergent validity denotes the degree to which measures of constructs that are theoretically supposed to be correlated are in fact correlated as suggested by statistical correlation tests. Four decades of resilience research has identified multitudinous correlates of resilience (e.g., protective factors, risk exposures, and positive outcomes). Of these correlates, I selected social support provided by family members, significant adults, and friends; peer relation and staff support in school; social engagement in various activities; and subjective wellbeing across multiple life domains. These correlates were selected because resilience factors across family, school, and community domains (Masten, 2001; Reed-Victor & Stronge, 2002; Seccombe, 2002; Ungar, 2008) have long been recognised important facilitators of child and youth wellbeing in time of significant change, challenge, and risk (McGrath & Noble, 2014; Ungar et al., 2005). Before testing the convergent validity of the Chinese CYRM-12, I report on validation of the constructs of school peer relation, school staff support, social support, social engagement, and subjective wellbeing, which are correlates of resilience in theory. To gauge participants’ peer support in school, I used the Chinese version of the four-item Peer Relation Scale developed by Mu and Hu (2016b). It should be acknowledged that the scale was adjusted from the CORE (Creating Opportunities for Resilience and Engagement) project (www.coreconnects. ca/) that is concerned with the wellbeing of Grades Five to Nine students in Alberta, Canada. Cronbach’s alpha of the original scale (Mu & Hu, 2016b) is .75. In the current sample, Cronbach’s alpha is .77. To gauge participants’ staff support in school, I used the Chinese version of the seven-item School Staff Support Scale developed by Mu and Hu (2016b). It should be acknowledged that the scale was also adjusted from the CORE project. Cronbach’s alpha of the original scale (Mu & Hu, 2016b) is .88. In the current sample, Cronbach’s alpha is .87. To gauge participants’ social support, I used the Chinese version of the threedimension Social Support Scale, which Mu and Hu (2016b) translated and developed from the original English multidimensional social support scale (Zimet, Dahlem, Zimet, & Farley, 1988). In the original English version, Cronbach’s alpha values of the overall scale (12 items) and the subscales of family support (four items), significant adult support (four items), and friend support (four items) are .88, .87, .91, and .85, respectively. In the Chinese version (Mu & Hu, 2016b), Cronbach’s alpha values of the subscales of family support, significant adult support, and friend support are .76, .89, and .90, respectively. In the current sample, Cronbach’s alpha values of the overall scale and the subscales of

Quantifying child and youth resilience 89 family support, significant adult support, and friend support are .91, .79, .90, and .88, respectively. To gauge participants’ social engagement, I used the seven-item Social Engagement Scale (Mu, 2016; Mu & Hu, 2016b) to measure intellectual engagement in discussion of political and social issues, and practical engagement in diverse activities (e.g., volunteer work, paid work, family chore, sports, and religious activities). Cronbach’s alpha values reported in previous studies are .72 (Mu & Hu, 2016b) and .85 (Mu, 2016), respectively. In the current sample, Cronbach’s alpha is .77. To gauge participants’ academic engagement, the four-item Academic Engagement Scale (Mu & Hu, 2016b) was used. It should be acknowledged that the scale was adjusted from the CORE project. Cronbach’s alpha value reported in the previous study is .85 (Mu & Hu, 2016b). Cronbach’s alpha on the current sample is .74. To gauge participants’ subjective wellbeing across multiple life domains (e.g., standard of living, health, life achievement, personal relationships, safety, and belongingness to community), I used the seven-item Personal Wellbeing Index for School Children (PWI-SC) developed by Cummins and Lau (2005). The Chinese version of the PWI-SC was validated by Mu (2016). Cronbach’s alpha of the original English version of the PWI-SC (Tomyn & Cummins, 2011) and the validated Chinese version of the measure (Mu, 2016) is .82 and .88, respectively. In the current sample, Cronbach’s alpha is .86. Internal consistency reliability of the scales is summarised in Table 3.3. EFA was then conducted to examine the underlying pattern within each of the scales. Taking into account the use of non-probability sampling and the data’s violation of the statistical assumption of normal distribution, I conducted

Table 3.3 Internal consistency reliability of scales (Cronbach’s alpha) Scale

Original study

Current study

Child and youth resilience

.75 (Liebenberg et al., 2013) .92 (Mu & Hu, 2016c) .82 (Tomyn & Cummins, 2011) .88 (Mu, 2016b) .75 (Mu & Hu, 2016b) .88 (Mu & Hu, 2016b) .72 (Mu & Hu, 2016b) .85 (Mu & Hu, 2016b) .88 (Zimet et al., 1988) .87 (Zimet et al., 1988); .76 (Mu & Hu, 2016b) .91 (Zimet et al., 1988); .89 (Mu & Hu, 2016b) .85 (Zimet et al., 1988); .90 (Mu & Hu, 2016b)

.91

Subjective wellbeing Peer relation in school School staff support Social engagement Academic engagement Social support – Family support – Significant adult support – Friend support

.86 .77 .87 .77 .74 .91 .79 .90 .88

90  Quantifying child and youth resilience PCA (Hotelling, 1933; Pearson, 1901) on each scale. In addition, Kaiser’s eigenvalue-above-one criterion (Kaiser, 1960), Cattell’s scree test of inflexion point (Cattell, 1966), and Horn’s parallel analysis (Horn, 1965; O’Connor, 2000) were used to help with the decision making regarding the number of factor(s) to be extracted. The significant result from Bartlett’s Test indicates that the overall correlation amongst indicators within each scale is statistically different from 0 (Field, 2009). KMO associated with each scale is greater than .50, indicating sampling adequacy for EFA (Kaiser, 1974). PCA, Parallel Analysis, Kaiser’s eigenvalue-above-one criterion, and Cattell’s scree test of inflexion point yielded consistent results regarding the number(s) of the factors to be extracted. These results strongly align with those from previous studies where the scales were developed. Variance explained by the extracted factor(s) greater than 50% is considered to be adequate (Beavers et al., 2013). CFA were also conducted to test the construct validity of the measures of subjective wellbeing, academic engagement and social engagement, peer support and staff support in school, as well as social support by family members, significant adults, and friends. Results from EFA and CFA suggest a singlefactor solution to the constructs of subjective wellbeing, academic engagement, peer relation in school, and school staff support; a two-factor solution to the construct of social engagement; and a three-factor solution to the construct of social support. Measurement models of these constructs have at least a reasonably good level of model fit. Results from EFA and CFA are summaries in Table 3.4. Measurement models are graphed in Figures 3.3, 3.4, 3.5, 3.6, 3.7, and 3.8.

Table 3.4 Results of factor analysis – measurement models of correlates of resilience Construct

Staff support

Peer relation

Social support

Social Academic Subjective engagement engagement wellbeing

KMO .90 .75 .90 .76 .72 Bartlett’s test 2163.53 766.91 4813.37 1195.64 712.55 of sphericity, (p < .001) (p < .001) (p < .001) (p < .001) (p < .001) χ2 Factor 1 1 3 2 1 extracted Variance 57.84% 60.15% 70.97% 57.16% 57.01% explained NFI .96 .96 .96 .96 .98 RFI .94 .87 .94 .93 .93 IFI .96 .96 .97 .97 .98 TLI .94 .87 .96 .95 .94 CFI .96 .96 .97 .97 .98 RMSEA .09 .15 .07 .06 .10

.88 1669.17 (p < .001) 1 58.81% .98 .96 .98 .97 .98 .07

Quantifying child and youth resilience 91

Except my parents, there is an important adult who is around when I need help.

.54

e1

.74 .82 Adult Support

.68 Except my parents, there is an important adult with whom I can share my joys and sorrows.

.89 .86

Except my parents, there is an important adult who is a real source of comfort to me.

Except my parents, there is an important adult who cares about my feelings.

.59

.80

.75

.51 My family really tries to help me.

.71 .77

.61

Family Support

.60 I get the emotional help and support I need from my family.

.65 .65

.43 I can talk about my problems with my family. .42 My family is willing to help me make decision.

.69

.65 My friends really try to help me.

.81 .80 Friend Support

.65 I can count on my friends when things go wrong.

.83

.69

.80 I have friends with whom I can share my joys and sorrows. .63 I can talk about my problems with my friends.

e2

e3

e4

e5 e6 e7 e8 e9 e10 e11 e12

Figure 3.3 The three-factor measurement model of social support

In accordance with established knowledge in extant literature, resilience measured by the Chinese CYRM-12 has a strong correlation with school peer relation (r = .57, p < .001), school staff support (r = .59, p < .001), family support (r = .53, p < .001), significant adult support (r = .49, p < .001), friend support (r = .58, p < .001), and subjective wellbeing (r = .62, p < .001). It has a medium strong correlation with academic engagement (r = .41, p < .001) and social engagement (r = .37, p < .001). That is to say, the Chinese CYRM-12 is related to the correlates to which it is supposed to be related. Therefore, the convergent validity of the Chinese CYRM-12 can be claimed.

.40

Most of the adults at this school really listen to what I have to say.

.64

.53 Adults at this school treat students with respect.

e1

e2

.73 .65 Adults at this school really care about me.

.81 School Staff Support

.75

Adults at this school notice when students are doing a good job and let them know it.

.64

.56

.41

.76

There is at least one adult in this school I can talk to if I have a problem.

.65

.58 Adults at this school are fair in dealing with students.

.42 Adults at this school act on student concerns and worries.

e3

e4

e5

e6

e7

Figure 3.4 The single-factor measurement model of school staff support .73

e1

How often do you engage in discussion of political topics?

.85

Intellectual Engagement

.81

.66

e2

How often do you engage in discussion of social issues? .46

e3

How often do you engage in volunteer work?

.58

.27

.68 .52

Practical Engagement

e4

How often do you engage in paid work? .28

.53 .57 .56

e5

How often do you engage in family chores? .32

e6

How often do you engage in sports activities? .31

How often do you engage in religious activities?

Figure 3.5 The two-factor measurement model of social engagement

e7

.37

e1

I have close friends at school that I spend time with. .61 .47

e2

If I’m having a tough time I have friends I can really depend on.

.69 Peer Relations in School

.67 .77

.45

e3

There are kids I like in my class. .59

e4

Most other students accept me as I am.

Figure 3.6 The single-factor measurement model of peer relation in school

.41 .64

e1

How happy are you about the things you have? Like the money you have and the things you own? .55

.74

e2

How happy are you with your health? .50

.71 Subjective Wellbeing

e3

How happy are you with the things you want to be good at? .79 .75

.63

e4

How happy are you about getting on with the people you know? .56

.63

e5

How happy are you about how safe you feel? .40 How happy are you about what may happen to you later on in your life?

e6

Figure 3.7 The single-factor measurement model of subjective wellbeing

94  Quantifying child and youth resilience .35

e1

I feel like I am doing well at this school. .59

.66

.81 Academic Engagement

e2

I care that my homework is done correctly. .79

.40

.62

e3

It matters a lot to me what my grades or marks are. .16 School is a waste of time.

e4

Figure 3.8 The single-factor measurement model of academic engagement

Methodological lessons from validation of the Chinese CYRM-12 In this chapter, I report on the validation of the Chinese CYRM-12. One strength of this validation work is the use of back-translation in combination with the translation of the CYRM-12. This combination is conducive to the reliability and validity of the translation work. In addition, I involved school teachers and children in the pre-pilot and the pilot phases of the research to collaboratively evaluate the face validity, age appropriateness, and language quality of the translated CYRM-12. This process not only contributes to the linguistic and contextual robustness of the translated measure, but also provides an opportunity for participating children and schoolteachers to voice their opinions. In this vein, participants were not treated like passive subjects under investigation in many traditional survey studies or recipients of treatment in conventional experimental studies. Instead, they assumed active social roles and resourceful positions in my research process, and empowered themselves by sharing their voices and experiences. Such indigenous knowledge contributes to the culture- and contextappropriateness of the Chinese CYRM-12. The high levels of reliability and validity of the Chinese CYRM-12 indicate that the measure can be used as a methodologically sound tool to directly gauge the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children as a construct in its own right. Both the Cronbach’s alpha test and the split-in-half test yielded satisfactory results, indicating a high internal consistency reliability of the translated CYRM-12. EFA conducted through PCA and parallel analysis consistently suggest a single-factor solution, which accords with the original English version of the CYRM-12. Consequently, a single-factor measurement model with the 12 translated items was specified in CFA. All model fit statistics show good results. Moreover, the construct remains statistically and conceptually invariant across multiple groups. This measurement invariance indicates that different cohorts of

Quantifying child and youth resilience 95 participants conceptualise the construct of resilience in similar, if not exactly the same, way. However, this does not mean that different cohorts of participants necessarily share identical pathways to resilience. Given the measurement invariance of the Chinese CYRM-12, the instrument has strong potential to gauge child and youth resilience across multiple contexts and make cross-group comparisons to understand resilience building while taking into account various forms of resources and different levels of risks. In addition, medium strong to strong statistical correlations were found between resilience measured by the Chinese CYRM-12 on the one hand, and subjective wellbeing, academic engagement and social engagement, peer support and staff support in school, as well as social support by family members, significant adults, and friends on the other hand. This justifies the convergent validity of the Chinese CYRM-12. When validating the Chinese CYRM-12, I have taken into account various forms of adversities that are possibly the most relevant in a contemporary Chinese context. This initiative complements the bulk of existing resilience measures that assess the strengths of children and adolescents regardless of the degree of adversity that these young people confront (Ungar & Liebenberg, 2011). In this respect, my work strongly aligns with the view of colleagues (Luthar et al., 2000; Masten, 2011; Rutter, 2013; Ungar, 2008) that there is a symbiotic relationship between resilience and adversity. Interestingly, some colleagues (e.g., Aldridge et al., 2016; Daigneault et al., 2013; Davey et al., 2003; Jones & Lafreniere, 2014; Prince-Embury & Courville, 2008; Sharkey et al., 2008) include children and adolescents who are not at risk in their resilience studies. These studies are based on the contestation that entering, living through, and exiting childhood and adolescence all constitute normative adversity (Davey et al., 2003). Nevertheless, these studies were criticised for not taking risk factors into account in resilience research (Liebenberg et al., 2013). The criticism is based on the contestation that children or adolescents who produce positive outcomes without having experienced any significant risk demonstrate competence instead of resilience (Masten & Reed, 2002). At the national level, validation of the Chinese CYRM-12 has several important implications in China. Systematic, proactive policy interventions on resilience building of floating children and left-behind children have not yet come to the fore in Mainland China. Current policy making in the welfare and wellbeing of these children largely follows a post hoc model, rushing to fix the problems after these children have already been placed at risk. More often than not, it is too late to cry over the spilt milk. The validated Chinese version of the CYRM-12 is a robust tool for governments, schools, and communities to evaluate, monitor, and promote the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children, so that these children can have reasonably high levels of wellbeing in unfavourable situations and can continue to thrive in the face of emergent risks in the future. Knowledge built and lessons learnt through these contextually and culturally specific resilience building processes can be written into school curriculum and incorporated into social services in Mainland China.

96  Quantifying child and youth resilience At the international level, validation of the Chinese CYRM-12 echoes the call to shift away from traditional resilience research anchored in the “Eurocentric epistemology” (Ungar, 2008, p. 222). With most research being conducted in Western contexts, many results may be similar (Shean, 2015). However, these results cannot be assumed as the universal reality and cannot be arbitrarily transplanted into research contexts elsewhere. To develop a coherent body of resilience research, it is critical to take into account contextual and cultural dynamics. Validation of the Chinese CYRM-12 manifests such effort. This validation work also echoes the call to include marginalised voices not yet well represented in the literature (Ungar, 2008, 2011, 2013; Ungar et al., 2008). To this end, I accredit local discourses from floating children and left-behind children living with different levels and forms of adversities in Mainland China, with the understanding that their resilience is a culturally and contextually dynamic process. Given the complexities of child and youth resilience, it is unlikely to ever develop a universal measure of resilience that is appropriate across all contexts and at all levels of exposure to adversity (Ungar, 2013). Having said that, methodology reported in this chapter can be of potential benefits elsewhere, particularly in those non-English speaking contexts. The coherence in resilience measures, at least to a certain extent, can facilitate cross-cultural, cross-contextual, and cross-national comparisons. This coherence can also provide a methodological basis for meta-analysis to produce more generalised and tenable knowledge to inform international resilience research and practice. Despite the methodological attributes, the use of convince sampling is one limitation of my study. Although samples were drawn from different provinces and the sampling took into account the geographical location of these provinces, generalisation of the results should be with caution. That said, validation of the Chinese CYRM-12 has established a sound methodological foundation for large-scale, longitudinal follow-up studies that will include more representative samples. Recognising the significance of children’s voices, their cultures, the interactions between the systems around them, and the adversities that they face in their resilience process, child and youth resilience research requires more robust methodology. The emphasis on quantitative measures of risk factors, protective factors, outcome variables, and resilience is essential for theory-laden interventions. Quantitative research is powerful in terms of testing relationships between known variables (e.g., risks, protectors, outcomes, and resilience), but it is less so to reveal new variables pertinent in the process of child and youth resilience. The assumption of quantitative method is that all significant variables have already been identified. This seems to pre-exclude possibilities of new variables. To fully portray child and youth resilience, quantitative analyses and statistical models often used in positivist inquiry may be inadequate. Although this chapter has a sharp focus on quantifying child and youth resilience, this does not necessarily exclude other research methods. Qualitative work can complement quantitative research on child and youth resilience in several ways (Ungar, 2003): (1) to discover the unnamed protective processes relevant to the lived experience of research participants; (2) to describe resilience phenomena

Quantifying child and youth resilience 97 in very specific contexts and cultures; (3) to elicit and add power to minority voices that account for unique localised definitions of positive outcomes; (4) to promote tolerance for these localised constructions by avoiding generalisation but facilitating transferability of results; and (5) to take into account researchers’ biased standpoints. When combined, these five aspects of qualitative studies of resilience can help to make comprehensible the unique wellbeing-seeking behaviours of children and adolescents and recognise young people’s different definitions of adversities, successful adaptations, and positive outcomes. Either a quantitative or qualitative method by itself is not able to paint a complete picture of child and youth resilience. To explore and test new possibilities, a systematic combination of quantitative and qualitative methods are required. When both access to a large enough sample and in-depth contact with the participants’ inner worlds are possible, a mixed-methods approach to child and youth resilience may prove useful (Ager, 2013; Morales, 2010; Rutter, 2006, 2007; Ungar, 2011, 2013). Mixed-methods research is particularly powerful in terms of revealing the yet unnamed resilience processes amongst child populations poorly represented in a still largely hegemonic literature fraught with White, Western epistemologies. In recognition of the value of mixed methods in child and youth resilience, I draw on multiple data sources, both quantitative and qualitative, to grapple with a research-worthy problem yet to be addressed: the resilience processes of floating children and left-behind children in China.

Note 1 This chapter is revised from Mu, G. M., & Hu, Y. (2016). Validation of the Chinese version of the 12-item Child and Youth Resilience Measure. Children and Youth Services Review, 70, 332–339. doi:10.1016/j.childyouth.2016.09.037

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4 Resistance as a sociological process of resilience Indigenous voices from under-resourced migrant families James Clairmont, a Lakota spiritual elder, expresses how the concept of resilience is inherent in his tribal culture: “The closest translation of ‘resilience’ is a sacred word that means ‘resistance’ . . . resisting bad thoughts, bad behaviours. We accept what life gives us, good and bad, as gifts from the Creator. We try to get through hard times, stressful times, with a good heart. The gift [of adversity] is the lesson we learn from overcoming it.” (LaFromboise, Hoyt, Oliver, & Whitbeck, 2006, p. 194)

Current epistemologies of child and youth resilience are predominantly based on Western, White, middle-class knowledge. For example, much resilience research has worked with minority, disadvantaged children living in economically developed countries like the US and the UK, using predetermined indicators borrowed from studies of normal child populations (Ungar, Ghazinour, & Richter, 2013). Applying mainstream knowledge to children from other cultures and contexts may be of little benefit or even destructive. Nevertheless, extant studies have not yet paid due attention to the cultural and contextual differences in resilience building. There is an urgency to extend current knowledge about child and youth resilience that is largely anchored in a “Eurocentric epistemology” (Ungar, 2008, p. 222). Ungar (2008) has responded to this urgency with four propositions. First, resilience has global as well as culturally and contextually specific aspects. Second, aspects of resilience exert differing amounts of influence on children’s life depending on the specific culture and context in which resilience is realised. Third, aspects of children’s lives that contribute to resilience are related to one another in patterns that reflect children’s culture and context. Fourth, how tensions between children and their cultures and contexts are resolved affects the way in which aspects of resilience group together. Ungar’s (2008) propositions apparently place children at the core of resilience research. Nevertheless, many colleagues have drawn on the views of adults (e.g., primary caregivers, school professionals, community workers, and policy makers) to make sense of children’s resilience process. As children have been traditionally evaluated by adults, their voices remain somewhat absent in resilience research and practice. Adult epistemology, to a point, provides some insight into

Process of resilience 105 children’s healthy functioning. However, it is simplistic, naïve, or even misleading to assume that significant others have more insight into children’s life than children themselves. This does not mean that the views of significant others are not important. Instead, both the views of significant others and the voices of children matter in resilience research and practice. If they are used in isolation, there is the prospect that the most important risk factors and resilience factors will remain undiscovered. In this chapter, I draw on voices of multiple groups – parents, caregivers, school professionals, and most importantly, floating children and left-behind children – to complement current knowledge about resilience. The exponential growth of urbanisation in China has created a massive scale of rural-to-urban migration. Many migrant parents choose to bring their child(ren) to cities when they move away from their rural hometown. These children, however, not only encounter institutional barriers when accessing free public schooling and social services in cities, but also face social discrimination against their rural dispositions (Mu & Hu, 2016). Resultantly, these children are often at risk of undesirable psychological, social, educational, and health outcomes (Mu & Jia, 2016; Mu et al., 2013). The term ‘floating children’ is therefore used to describe the rootlessness of these children in the urban social space. Other migrant parents have to painfully leave their children behind in their rural hometown. The caregivers of these children are often grandparents or extended family members in local communities. These children are therefore called ‘left-behind children’, who suffer from no or limited parenting, unsound caregiving, and significant risks across multiple life domains (Hu, Lonne, & Burton, 2014). The total population of floating children and left-behind children is approaching 100 million (National Women’s Association, 2013), accounting for one third of the total population of children in Mainland China. In the massive internal migration context, building resilience of floating children and left-behind children who would otherwise be taken-for-grantedly viewed as others and underdogs is a research-worthy issue. This issue is indeed a conceptual conundrum and challenging task for stakeholders who are socially privileged and who are to engage in working with, and learning from, othered young people in ways that are powerful and consequential. Such conundrums and challenges necessitate a sociological approach to resilience. In this chapter, I consider floating children and left-behind children’s resistance to socially defined adversities and desired outcomes as a form of resilience. As the chapter unfolds, it will soon become clear how these children draw on their dispositions, either consciously or unconsciously, and capitalise on resources at their disposal to resist the stereotyped demarcations between the “desired” and the “undesired”. In the face of structural constraints, these children demonstrate resilience in the form of self-defined identities and wellness.

Resistance to imposed stereotype as a form of resilience In precarious conditions, children from different socioeconomic backgrounds not only have different levels of access to capital functional to buffer adversities

106  Process of resilience but also have different representations of habitus that predisposes them to certain responses to adversities. In simple words, socioeconomic and cultural backgrounds moderate the resilience process and are generative of diverse resilience outcomes. The core message here is that the nature of resilience necessitates sociological understandings. Such understandings remain incomplete without also attending to power relations in research and practice. In sociological terms, resilience is not universal but co-constructed through interactions between the powerless group who are often marginalised, misrecognised, and othered; and the powerful group who control dominant discourses and define what is desired in adverse conditions. Fundamental questions of power, discourse, ontology, or epistemology are rarely raised when discussing child and youth resilience (Ungar, 2010). As a result, resilience often falls prey to “the vagaries of definitional one-upmanship” (Ungar, 2010, p. 6), with the most powerful others having the best privilege to influence the naming of everyday practices as either risk taking or resilience building. In other words, risk and (un)desirable outcomes have long been well defined by powerful others through their own epistemology, interest, and logic. The well-established definitions of resilience imposed on children in marginal positions and adverse conditions push these children towards the socially desired directions. The arbitrary language of “risk” and “resilience” of powerful others commits a form of symbolic violence imposed on young people (Foster & Spencer, 2011). Different from explicit monopoly and dominance of legitimate use of ‘physical force’ (Weber, 2009) and ‘discipline’ (Foucault, 1995), symbolic violence “operates in a much more subtle manner – through language, through the body, through attitudes towards things which are below the level of consciousness” (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 115). As physical force and discipline are something external, and of which people are conscious, it is easier, in a sense, to revolt against them. In contrast, revolt against symbolic violence seems to be difficult as symbolic domination is “something you absorb like air, something you don’t feel pressured by; it is everywhere and nowhere, and to escape from that is very difficult” (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 115). In this respect, domination through symbolic violence “tends to take the form of a more effective, and in this sense more brutal, means of oppression” (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 115). Through the concept of symbolic violence, “an unperceived form of everyday violence” is made visible (Bourdieu & Eagleton, 1992, p. 112). Despite the difficulty of revolting against sybmolic violence, disadvantaged young people do not necessisarily always succumb to normative societal expectations. Some of them are responsive to the imposed symbolic violence in a resilient way. For example, the resilience of socially disadvantaged Aboriginal and AngloAustralian girls was manifested in their resistance to negative, stereotyped identities imposed on them by dominant, mainstream discourses (Bottrell, 2007, 2008, 2009). For another example, socially disadvantaged students in the UK actively engaged with a reflective process in which they became aware of their need to break with the taken-for-granted social norms and therefore were able to develop

Process of resilience 107 certain social, cultural, and specifically, educational capital to successfully negotiate the school-college-university transition (Hernandez-Martinez & Williams, 2013). Following the route of these colleagues, I approach resilience through often unheard and overlooked voices, focusing on the desirables that floating children and left-behind children envision for themselves and their resistance to mainstream ideologies of education, risk, and postive outcomes. I aim to account for indigenous discourses of floating children and left-behind children who define their own positive outcomes as a local construct. In so doing, I call for the inclusion of marginalised voices originating in communities not yet well heard.

The portrayal of Xiaobao: a floating child, an early school leaver Xiaobao was born into a rural family in Anhui province. His maternal and paternal grandparents and great grandparents were all farmers, engaging with various labourious agricultural work, such as field ploughing, livestock farming, and crop planting. Xiaobao’s parents inherited the peasant life. When they were young, they worked on farms in their hometown just like the earlier generations of their family. Nothing changed until 2002, when Xiaobao’s parents came to Beijing with folks from their village. The couple also brought Xiaobao to Beijing. At that time, Xiaobao was only three years old. When the family first came to Beijing, life was very difficult. The couple worked and lived on a construction site. The husband was deployed to a unit responsible for concrete and sand supply for the construction site. He had to work long hours every day, shuttling with a wheelbarrow numerous times between two fixed points within the construction site, transporting concrete and sand from one point to another. This was apparently a tedious and arduous job. Every day he finished his work at dawn. With his body worn out, stomach hungry, hands dirty, and eyes sleepy, he returned to the shabby temporary cottage at the edge of the construction site – a small shanty that they could call home at that time. The wife’s job was a hard one too. She was a cook on the construction site. Each time she cooked for the construction workers, little Xiaobao played at her side. Food materials needed to be washed. In wintertime, the cold water from the tap chilled her to the bone. Her wrinkled hands and frostbitten fingers told everything. The couple worked hard and led a frugal life. Their wages were low, so the couple only had nominal savings. Even so, they supported their family in the village by remittance. To save money, they decided not to return to their hometown every Spring Festival because the train tickets during the Spring Festival would cost the couple over 1,000 Chinese Yuan (approximately USD $150). During their time in Beijing, they sporadically talked to their aging parents by longdistance calls. This was the only way to keep the family connected during those years because a mobile phone was way too luxurious for the couple at that time. Several years of hard work saw some payoffs for the family. Their living condition improved, and the family had more savings than before, though life was not affluent. The couple decided to establish their own business. To do this, they

108  Process of resilience used up their savings, and they also had to borrow some money from their relatives and friends. They rented a house in a populated community and opened a small vegetable and fruit shop there. The house was built of bricks, with polished marble floors. There were two rooms in the house. The front room was quite spacious so it was used as the shop. Behind the shop room was a small and sparsely furnished room, where the family lived. I first met the family at the shop in 2006. At that time, Xiaobao was seven years old – a conventional age in China to start primary school. There was a public school in the community. This was the school where Xiaobao studied. Xiaobao’s dad told me: It took us a while to get all the documents they (the school) needed, so we just submitted the application and they approved that. How lucky! It’s not a good school but it’s good enough for us. At least he (Xiaobao) had a school to go to. At least he didn’t linger around or mingle with bullies, right? Every day he went to school by himself and came back home by himself after school. We were busy in the shop so we didn’t have time to escort him to school, and we didn’t have time to pick him up after school either. It’s fine as long as he’s not led astray by bad boys. Indeed, Xiaobao was lucky as his application for admission to school was approved. It will be recalled that in Chapter 1, I analysed how policy oscillations influence floating children’s admission to public schools in cities. Xiaobao went to school in 2006 – at a time when Hu’s Government (2003–2013) worked in tandem with a populist approach to societal harmony, social inclusivity, and educatioinal equity. Xiaobao could have been excluded from the public school system in Beijing and had to study in a migrant-sponsored school if he had gone to school in a period when government policies explicitly limited the admission of floating children to urban public schools. Let’s revert to the story of Xiaobao’s family. The family’s vegetable and fruit shop was the only one of its kind in the community, so the business was pretty good. The living conditions of the family continued to improve in subsequent years. In 2013, the couple opened their second business in the community – a small expressage company delivering post for the community residents. The division of labour between the couple was clear. The wife looked after the vegetable and fruit shop, and the husband looked after the expressage company. The company ran well and the business grew fast. The husband could hardly manage the delivery services by himself. In 2015, Xiaobao failed his senior high school entrance examination. He gave up school and began to help his dad with post delivery. This seemed to work well for the family. Xiaobao worked alongside his dad as a delivery man. With Xiaobao’s help, his dad did not have to work exhaustively like before. At the time when I wrote this book, Xiaobao just turned 18 years old and has “successfully” reproduced his parents’ social status. Xiaobao’s family has survived and thrived in the face of the adversities brought about by migration. The family now owns two cars and seems to enjoy their life in Beijing. Figure 4.1 demonstrates the home and work of the family.

Process of resilience 109

Figure 4.1 Home and work environment of Xiaobao’s family

Over the years, I have had considerable contact with Xiaobao and his parents. Sometimes I called Xiaobao’s home, and sometimes I visited his home after a typical school day. During one of my visits, I intended to understand Xiaobao’s school experiences and aspirations for the future. I purposefully asked questions like “What did you do in school today?”, “What do you do after school?”, “Do you want to go to university?”, and “What do you want to do in the future?” The transcript below was excerpted from a conversation between Xiaobao and me. I: So what did you do in school today? Xiaobao: Nothing. Boring! In the Chinese class, we tossed chalk to each other. That was fun. (Fleeting smiles flickered across his face.) I: Why did you do that? Xiaobao: To get the teacher mad! His class was boring. Just chanting and repetitive. What about other classes? Interesting at all? I: Xiaobao: Nothing different. The math teacher said we can skip the thinking pages. I: Thinking pages? Xiaobao: Just the several pages after each lesson, something like more difficult math word problems. Teachers said we don’t have to worry about that stuff because they are too hard. I only do the basics. Pass (in the exam) is ok. I: Have you ever failed in the exams? Xiaobao: Once, only once in maths. I: So what did you do with it? I mean how did you manage to catch up? Like doing more maths after school? Xiaobao: Nothing. Who knows what happened that time. I got everything wrong. Bad luck! But I am usually ok (in exams). I: So what do you usually do after school? Xiaobao: Play games and mum was mad. She yelled at me all the time. I: Do you want to go to university when you grow up?

110  Process of resilience Xiaobao: Like a very big school? Like school for older students? I: That’s right. So do you want to go to university? Xiaobao: Hmm . . . I don’t know. Maybe . . . if I have money . . . hmm . . . probably not, because of my poor grades. Also I am not smart. I: So what do you want to do when you grow up? Xiaobao: Anything, any job. But if it’s too hard, I wouldn’t do it. So you think you could be anything you want when you grow up? I: Xiaobao: No. Only rich people can. Once my friend brought me to his house. It’s in a Hutong (a type of narrow streets or alleys, commonly associated with northern Chinese cities, most prominently Beijing). It’s big, like a huge one, and I asked, “How much is it?” He said it was from his grandparents. I asked, “What did they do?” He said, “Nothing. My grandfather’s grandfather had kinship to the royal family.” So I was like why they don’t work hard but have everything so good? I: Does he do well in school? Xiaobao: Much better than me. He’s in a different class, the advance class. He’s the type of student teachers like. I: What type? Xiaobao: Good students, students with good marks, and student leaders. Teachers all like them. Well . . . most teachers smile at me when they see me in school. But I still think teachers only care about the good ones in their subjects. I don’t have Hukou (urban residency documented in the Household Registration System) so they don’t count me in. I would drag down the class mean score. That’s all they care about. If I ask them what to do, they’d say: “Oh if you need help, you’d better get a tutor”. So I am like that’s ok. I don’t care about this boring stuff. I: So you don’t like school? Xiaobao: I don’t want to go to school. I don’t fit the image there. I feel very uncomfortable there. I think I go to school because I wanna play with my friends, and that’s all. Xiaobao’s disengagement in learning is evidently manifested in the above conversation. His failure in the exam did not seem to frustrate him. He even did not intend to catch up. He found school was “nothing” but “boring”, “chanting”, and “repetitive”. The only thing he found interesting in school was to toss chalk and get his teacher mad. His anti-disciplinary practice, according to theories of resistance (e.g., Giroux, 1983a, 1983b), is a typical everyday form of countercultural expressions amongst dominated groups. For example, working-class lads thoroughly rejected school in favour of their own working-class subculture (Willis, 1977) and immigrant students with limited French literacy who rejected school due to “the desire to avoid the humiliation of having to read out loud in front of the other students” (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 61). Xiaobao seemed to be very aware of his dominated and marginalised social position in school: “I don’t have Hukou so they don’t count me in. I would drag down the class mean score”.

Process of resilience 111 Without the institutionalised cultural capital, urban Hukou in this case, Xiaobao’s studentship was de facto made illegitimate in school. Without the embodied cultural capital required for school success, academic engagement in this case, Xiaobao was marginalised by the neoliberalised pedagogies that celebrate competition and performance in standardised testing. The neoliberal logic infiltrated into the field of education can be understood as a form of symbolic violence imposed on Xiaobao. Resultantly, Xiaobao felt “very uncomfortable” in school because he did not “fit the image there”. If Xiaobao had no friend in school, he could barely see any point going to school: “I think I go to school because I wanna play with my friends, and that’s all.” His sense of not belonging to school was governed by his experience of the dominated, marginalised social position that he occupied in neoliberalised field of education, taking the form of discomfort – an “emotion” or “the unease of someone who is out of place” (Bourdieu, 2000, p. 184). In this vein, objective limits of neoliberalised schooling have been transformed into Xiaobao’s subjective practical responses to such objective limits. As he confessed, “I don’t want to go to school. I don’t fit the image there”. Citing Bourdieu again, “the space of positions tends to command the space of position-takings” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 105). The social positions are objectively defined by the quality, quantity, and configuration of capitals at stake, and hence are already there ready to be taken. However, Xiaobao did not take the position haphazardly. Instead, he might have taken the position, either consciously or unconsciously, either willingly or unwillingly, which he was predisposed to take on the basis of his dominated, marginalised position in the neoliberalised field of education. In this respect, position-taking underpins subtle and brutal class politics, hierarchical systems, and unequal structures of the social world. Xiaobao seemed to be aware of the social hierarchy by saying “only rich people can (do things they want)”. But he did not seem to understand the underlying politics behind social hierarchy: “Why they don’t work hard but have everything so good?” Social inequalities can be perpetuated through classed pedagogies in school. As Xiaobao noted, “Teachers only care about the good ones in their subjects”; “Teachers said we don’t have to worry about that stuff because they are too hard.” By using the plural pronoun “we”, Xiaobao indicated that he was not alone but just one of the students who were placed at a structural disadvantage. His teachers seemed to assume that disadvantaged students were doomed to achieve nothing and were not worthy of any help: “Oh if you need help, you’d better get a tutor”. In this way, Xiaobao is similar to the North American students who have experienced the most disproportionate school failure and who have been on the receiving end of a pattern of devaluation of identity for generations (Cummins, 2001). For these students, any serious attempt to reverse the imposed stereotype of underachievement must challenge both the devaluation of identity that these students have historically experienced and the social power structure that perpetuates this pattern. In Xiaobao’s school, then, teachers showed no interest in “populi-culture” but celebrated and canonised “popular culture” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 82).

112  Process of resilience The former refers to “policies of cultural upgrading aimed at providing the dominated with access to dominant cultural goods” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 82), while the latter places “hyperbolic limit” on socially disadvantaged students and entraps them into their historical being of marginalisation (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 82). Behind the popular culture is a “sham inversion of dominant values” and a “fiction of a unity of the social world” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 83). Although Xiaobao noticed that most teachers smiled at him in school, he doubted whether such smiles were wholehearted: “Well . . . most teachers smile at me when they see me in school. But I still think teachers only care about the good ones in their subjects”. When public schooling is fraught with a popular culture, it hypocritically purports educational equity and confers upon structurally disadvantaged students a nobility only based on their adjustment and submission to the neoliberalised schooling. Unsuccessful adjustment is costly, as it results in subordination, marginalisation, or even exclusion. Interestingly, Xiaobao’s response to the structural constraints brought about by the neoliberalised schooling and the popular culture was qualitatively different from adjustment and submission. He did not seem to show interest in improving his school performance. As he noted, “pass (in the exam) is ok.” He did not “care about this boring stuff”. When asked whether he wanted to go to university, Xiaobao hemmed and hawed: “Maybe . . . if I have money . . . hmm . . . probably not, because of my poor grades. Also I am not smart”. Despite vacillation in his attitudes, Xiaobao was aware of his lack of attributes celebrated by neoliberalised schooling. Capitals required for school success, according to Bourdieu (1977), are arbitrarily and selectively valued, legitimated, and rewarded by schools. Lack of these capitals are often misrecognised by disadvantaged students, their parents, and their teachers as an inherent lack of academic ability or merit. As Xiaobao confessed, “I am not smart”. His mum believed that Xiaobao was “not cut out to be a student”. The misrecognition was also seen in my interviews with teachers in Xiaobao’s school. Consider the excerpt below: I usually don’t do exercises and items provided by the manual. I also skip the thinking pages. They’re way too hard for them (academically disadvantaged students). They never get it, and they’ll never use it because they’re lazy. I hate to label them, but they are lazy. In addition, students here are wild little monkeys and have no interest in learning. They don’t listen to you in class. The interview account here evidently shows that educational interactions and pedagogic discourses are never neutral with respect to the messages communicated to students about their value, intellect, and future. The teachers’ interview accounts are fraught with deficit discourses: “They never get it . . . because they are lazy . . . and are wild little monkeys”. Lack of embodied cultural capital valued by school was misrecognised by the teacher as an inherent lack of academic merit. This misrecognition, according to Bourdieu (1977), was culpable, at least to a certain extent, for Xiaobao’s decision to self-exclude from further education.

Process of resilience 113 Self-exclusion here also shows Xiaobao’s indifference in mainstream schooling. To be indifferent is “to be unmoved by the game” because the game “makes no difference” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 116). Apart from his indifference, Xiaobao “tossed chalk . . . to get the teacher mad” – a purposeful anti-disciplinary practice against the grain of mainstream schooling. I understand Xiaobao’s indifferent, mischievous responses as his resilience in the face of the constraining structures of neoliberalised schooling. Such resilience manifested in indifference and resistance is “a sense of one’s place” (Goffman, 1951, p. 297), which, according to Bourdieu (1984, p. 471), “leads one to exclude oneself from goods, persons, places and so forth from which one is excluded”. Xiaobao explicitly spoke of his self-exclusion: “I don’t want to go to school. I don’t fit the image there”. This self-exclusion was due, at least in part, to the social exclusion in school: “I don’t have Hukou so they don’t count me in”. For Xiaobao, self-exclusion from school showed his withdrawal from an arbitrary institution that failed to address diversity and inclusivity. Bourdieu would consider Xiaobao’s indifference and resistance as an ineffective sort of “spontaneist populism”, through which “the dominated seldom escape the antinomy of domination” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 82). This antinomy of domination encompasses two opposite choices. On the one hand, to engage in oppositional school activities “through horseplay, truancy, and delinquency, is to exclude oneself from the school, and, increasingly, to lock oneself into one’s condition of dominated” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 82). In this case, indifference and resistance only further the marginalisation of the already marginalised. On the one hand, “to accept assimilation by adopting school culture amounts to being coopted by the institution” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 82). The logic of practice here focuses on “adjustment of dispositions to position” that contributes to “submission” of the dominated (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 81). Either way, to oppose or to accept, the dominated groups are condemned to a dilemma of choices between “two equally bad ones” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 82). Such a dilemma necessitates the study of the link between school delinquency and the logic of furious competition encouraged by neoliberalised schooling, as Bourdieu, Sapiro, and McHale (1991, p. 651) observed: especially the effect of a final verdict or destiny that the educational system exerts over teenagers: with a psychological brutality which nothing can attenuate, the school institution lays down its final judgments and its verdicts, from which there is no appeal, ranging all students in a unique hierarchy of forms of excellence . . . Those who are excluded are condemned in the name of a collectively recognised and accepted criterion (and thus one which is psychologically unquestionable and unquestioned), the criterion of intelligence. Therefore, in order to restore an identity in jeopardy, students have no resort except to make a violet break with the scholastic order and social order (it has been observed, in France, that it is their collective opposition to school that tends to weld delinquents into gangs) or, as is also the case, to suffer psychological crisis, even mental illness or suicide.

114  Process of resilience By excluding himself from mainstream schooling, Xiaobao would be normally considered to sink deeper into the vicious circle of resistance that amplified “undesirable” outcomes. Nevertheless, Xiaobao’s resistance was also a sociological choice in the face of structural constraints – “a paradoxical way to make virtue out of necessity, that is, academic wrongdoing” (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 61). Xiaobao rejected adjustment and submission, and hence did not completely lose his agency. He adopted resistance at the risk of further marginalisation. He was well aware of this further marginalisation. When asked whether he could be anything he wanted in the future, he replied negatively, without hesitation: “No”. Xiaobao seemed to fit well into the mainstream knowledge about disadvantaged children – low aspiration, low academic engagement, and hence low academic performance. Indeed, Xiaobao failed the entrance examination to senior high school and chose to give up and drop out. There is a bulk of evidence that leaving school early can penalise children for a lifetime (OECD, 2012). Interestingly, Xiaobao drew on what I call resilience to deviate himself from the mainstream knowledge. In my most recent meeting with Xiaobao, I asked about his current status. He replied with delight: I finally left that damn place, finally don’t have to go to school. They treated me like I was really low. As long as you don’t ask me to go to school, I’d do anything for you. School for me is not about study. It’s more about social stuff, about my buddies, about who I hang out with. He then jumped into his car and left for delivery in an upbeat mood. Xiaobao’s linguistic and bodily responses to my question are telling. He never regretted leaving school early. In stark contrast, he felt happy about leaving the place where he used to engage in anti-disciplinary behaviours. By dint of resilience, Xiaobao attenuated the negative effect of leaving school early, and more importantly, questioned the imposed stereotype of the desired and the undesired. In Chapter 2, I reframed the notion of resilience through a sociological lens and construed resilience as habitus. Xiaobao’s habitus of resilience was not gained haphazardly. Rather, Xiaobao was enculturated, through socialisation and upbringing within the domestic milieu, into this very habitus of resilience that educated him to resist structural constraints and rebound from adversities. When asked about their expectations of Xiaobao, Xiaobao’s parents did not feel disappointed about his school failure: If he can learn to add, subtract, multiply, or divide, that’s good enough. At least, he can help the cashier in the shop after school. I won’t worry too much as long as he knows how to manage the shop when he grows up. I really don’t have any other expectations if he can read and write and do some simple maths. (Xiaobao’s mum) Actually people need to look at themselves first. Like I even didn’t finish my primary school, how possible my son can become, say, a scientist? That

Process of resilience 115 would be a joke! I am fooling myself if I say he can go to university. He just needs to do what he is supposed to do . . . What else can we expect? If being a delivery man is good enough for me, it’s good enough for my son. He could just do our family business. It’s small but good enough for him. (Xiaobao’s dad) Gofen (2009) claims that parents of all social backgrounds typically expect their children to attend university, whereas their capacity varies in terms of translating their expectations into realities. The interview accounts of Xiaobao’s parents, however, are at loggerheads with Gofen’s claim. Xiaobao’s mum would not “worry too much” and did not “have any other expectations” as long as Xiaobao achieved some minimal literacy and numeracy. Xiaobao’s dad did not even believe that Xiaobao could be able to continue his study: “I am fooling myself if I say he can go to university”. Indeed, Xiaobao performed poorly in exams, engaged in anti-disciplinary activities in class, and left school early. Xiaobao’s educational praxes would be interpreted as undesired elsewhere, but I understand them as representations of habitus of resilience to resist neoliberalised schooling and mainstreaming definitions of “success” (e.g., going to university). Xiaobao might have inherited this habitus of resilience from his parents. The intergenerational reproduction of counter-cultural responses was clearly voiced by Xiaobao’s dad: “If being a delivery man is good enough for me, it’s good enough for my son”. In this respect, Xiaobao and his family are very much like the inhabitants of Jonquil Street described by Bourdieu (1999, p. 6): “they started work quite naturally, often very early, at the age of 14, after a primary school certificate, following their parents’ footsteps, and they quite naturally assumed their children would follow them”. Xiaobao may not be consciously aware of his resilience, but his body knew and remembered. Through everyday family socialisation and upbringing, Xiaobao might have already been enculturated into a habitus of resilience. This habitus has been ingrained in his flesh and soul, in his mind and body, in his culture and dispositions. Habitus works “on the basis of the premises established in the previous state” (Bourdieu, 2000, p. 161) and “linked to individual history” (Bourdieu, 1993, p. 86). Xiaobao’s family culture and history formulated the previous state of his habitus. In this vein, the intergenerational reproduction of habitus of resilience happened to Xiaobao by osmosis when “history turned into nature” (Bourdieu, 1977, p. 78) and became “an embodied history, internalised as a second nature and so forgotten as history” (Bourdieu, 1990b, p. 56). As a result, “the active presence of the whole past” became “the active presence” (Bourdieu, 1990b, p. 56) because what historically needed to be durable and transposable through a process of continuous reproduction has now been “inscribed in bodies by identical histories” (Bourdieu, 1990b, p. 59). These identical histories of the family have created a set of dispositions in Xiaobao, seen in his indifference and resistance to neoliberalised schooling and mainstream definitions of “success”. For Xiaobao, his habitus of resilience became “a real ontological complicity, the source of cognition without consciousness, of an intentionality without intention, and a practical mastery of the world’s regularities” (Bourdieu, 1990a, p. 12).

116  Process of resilience Xiaobao’s resilience-cum-resistance prompts me to question my doxic positionality, which underpins my naïve perception, immediate acceptance, and taken-for-granted certainty of the universal “truth” that Xiaobao should have continued school and gone to university. It is by no means my intention here to claim the appropriateness of leaving school early. But leaving school early does not seem to be fatal for Xiaobao. Had he continued senior high school, would he enjoy? Would he go to university? Would a university degree open the door for his upward social mobility? What if he eventually still ended up with the job in his family business after completing university? Would he collapse when he realised all his investment and effort were in vain? Of course, there are no definite answers to these questions as the future is uncertain. But for now, Xiaobao is happy and doing OK. He has shown resilience to resist the socially desired outcomes and define his own desirable being and doing. The problem here is not about whether his resilience manages to overturn established social structures of domination and subordination. Neither is it about whether his indifference and resistance manage to break the spell of social reproduction. What merits some rethink here is what is “desired”, what is “undesired”, who has power to define them, and how to discover and respect the local, indigenous, marginalised discourses about life success and prosperity that have not yet been fully attended to.

The portrayal of Xiaoliu: a left-behind child, a dab hand at chores Nine-year-old Xiaoliu lives in a rural community in Jiangxi province. For the financial benefit of the family, Xiaoliu’s parents left their hometown and chose to work in Fujian province, an economically dynamic province in the very south of the Chinese mainland. Like most migrant workers in China, Xiaoliu’s parents only return to their hometown once a year during the Spring Festival. It would be unfair to blame Xiaoliu’s parents for their “cruelty” of leaving Xiaoliu behind. After all, leaving Xiaoliu behind was a hard choice from no other better available choices. Xiaoliu’s parents are similar to the parents of left-behind children with whom I have worked over the years. Each time I asked them why they left their child(ren) behind in their rural hometown, they always asked me back: “Who don’t love their own kids? Who don’t want to live with their own kids and watch them growing up? Who don’t want to accompany their own kids every day? This is because we don’t have any other choices”. Xiaoliu has been brought up by his paternal grandparents as his parents have been unable to live with, look after, and provide caregiving to, him. By definition, Xiaoliu is a left-behind child, like many other children in this rural community. Xiaoliu is now living with his grandparents and his five-year-old sister in the household. Xiaoliu has been helping with the chores since he was three years old. He helps with washing up the dishes and cleaning the house. Every morning on his way to school, Xiaoliu escorts his sister to her kindergarten. Xiaoliu’s

Process of resilience 117 grandfather seems to be very proud of Xiaoliu: “He’s only eight years old but he has shouldered a big responsibility of the family”. Xiaoliu’s aging grandparents can no longer afford to work on the farm. Neither can they afford to retire early. To reduce the economic burden of the household, Xiaoliu’s grandparents take up some casual work in a garment factory located in the town centre. In the rural community where the family lives, there is a market that opens nine times a month. To fully meet the daily household expense, the old couple have to sell wontons at a rented market stall. Every time they work at the market, they have to get up at three o’clock in the morning preparing food materials. They usually finish their business around three o’clock in the afternoon when the market is closed. Over the years, Xiaoliu has always helped his grandparents at the wonton stall. He has never complained about early rise for market work. Instead, he seems to be happy to contribute to the family. Xiaoliu has become a dab hand at making wontons. His wonton-making skills even beat his grandparents. His little sister is also contributing at the market stall, often helping clean the dining tables. In October 2016, Xiaoliu became a cyberstar. His story went viral on the Internet as he became famous for being able to make over 10,000 wontons in one day! Despite the marked difference between Xiaobao’s and Xiaoliu’s life experiences, both children drew on their resilience to resist the mainstream ideologies about the desirables in life. While Xiaobao showed indifference and resistance to mainstream schooling, Xiaoliu’s story complicated socially normalised perceptions about health and wellbeing. Xiaoliu often engaged in long-hour, arduous labour work, helping his aging grandparents in their wonton stall; and took domestic responsibilities, looking after his little sister and completing routine household chores. Participation in these family work-related activities would be considered threatening child and youth health and wellbeing. However, I understand such participation as resilience. It is not uncommon for children to have to engage in family work and sometimes economic activities because such child work may be of functional and financial significance to children’s family. In the international migration context, children of immigrant families worked as carers or surrogate parents to help their family (Valenzuela, 1999). In the internal migration context, many children assumed their responsibility of participating in family work and economic activities (Song, 1999). In the internal migration context of China, some colleagues (e.g., Han, 2004) seem to view floating children’s involvement in housework as a problem, and they contended such involvement might impinge on the school performance of floating children. Such concern is understandable. After all, children’s participation in labour, especially excessive labour, is a potential threat to their wellbeing. In the current case, Xiaoliu participated in long-hour, arduous work in his family’s wonton stall in a frequent manner, nine times a month as reported. Such participation would be immediately associated with child exploitation and hence criticised for undermining child safety, health, and rights. The mainstream

118  Process of resilience epistemology about the threatening effect of child labour on child wellbeing, however, can run into problem when faced with empirical evidence that would suggest otherwise, for example, in Xiaoliu’s case. When asked about his experiences of working in the wonton stall, Xiaoliu replied: I have long been used to this (working in the wonton stall). It’s not a big deal to get up in the early hours of the morning and chop food stuff. Mum and dad are away and I am the man of the family. I don’t want my grandpa and grandma to be too exhausted. I especially don’t want them to worry about me . . . I wish the Spring Festival could come earlier. Mum and dad can only come back home during the Spring Festival. When I grow up, I want to make a lot of money so that I can look after my grandpa and grandma, and mum and dad. I also want to buy beautiful clothes for my sister. Xiaoliu has “long been used to” the work in his family’s wonton stall, as he has learned to do this since he was three years old. Getting up at three o’clock in the morning would pain many children to death. But for Xiaoliu, “it’s not a big deal to get up in the early hours of the morning and chop food stuff”. Born into a rural village where many young adults choose to work in cities and many children are left behind, Xiaoliu has obtained practical knowledge about “reality”: “Mum and dad are away . . . and they only come back home during the Spring Festival”. This reality may hold true over his childhood. Growing up without sound parenting and living in separation from the birth parents would thwart many children. But these domestic dynamics and ecologies have enculturated Xiaoliu into a habitus, a system of internal schemata, and a set of embodied dispositions required for rebounding from adversities, which his body and mind “have long been used to”. This is a form of resilience manifested in “normalisation” (Masten & Obradovi, 2008, p. 10). Xiaoliu achieved such normalisation through internalising the external situations. The normalisation here, then, is a habitus of resilience, a habitus of knowhow, and a habitus of practical epistemology of ‘shoulds’ and ‘shouldn’ts’: “I don’t want my grandpa and grandma to be too exhausted. I especially don’t want them to worry about me” (shouldn’ts); “I want to make a lot of money so that I can look after my grandpa and grandma, and mum and dad. I also want to buy beautiful clothes for my sister” (shoulds). Xiaoliu’s habitus of resilience functions as a generative principle for his departure from the ‘shouldn’ts’ and his investment in the imagined future ‘shoulds’. Mainstream epistemology would consider children’s participation in excessive labour to be age-inappropriate and socially undesired. Xiaoliu and his family seemed to tell a different story. Xiaoliu’s grandfather reportedly felt very proud of Xiaoliu: “He’s only eight years old but he has shouldered a big responsibility of the family”. His story went viral on the Internet due to his unbelievably incredible wonton-making skills – over 10,000 wontons in one day! He has been known, both in the community and in the virtual space, as a dab hand at wonton making and domestic chore. Recognition within and beyond the domestic milieu became a form of symbolic capital for Xiaoliu. He himself was very aware of his

Process of resilience 119 contribution, responsbility, and significance in his family: “I am the man of the family”. This sense of postive self is likely to perpetuate into the future, as Xiaoliu has started to design what he should do when he grows up. In this way, resilience was not only a system of dispositions for Xiaoliu but also a set of capacities for accessing capitals and bouncing back from adversities. Xiaoliu is similar to the adolescents who had to take on additional family responsibilities and coped successfully during the Great Economic Depression of the 1930s (Elder, 1974). Xiaoliu is also similar to the children with pleasant work experiences who constructed stronger sense of identity, subjective wellbeing, and cohesion with others, and gained recognition for their contribution to others’ welfare (Libório & Ungar, 2010). The foundational resilience research led by Werner (1992) over three decades concluded that regular participation in household chores and domestic responsibilities was an important resilience factor that helped high-risk children make successful adaptations in their adult life. Xiaoliu’s resilience differs, however, in two ways. First, he had positive responses to excessive labour that would otherwise erode child wellbeing. He did not take his fate lying down but manoeuvred a resilient approach to coping with the now and aspiring for the future. Second, he showed resistance to mainstream ideologies about wellbeing-facilitating and wellbeing-inhibiting social practices. As a left-behind child, Xiaoliu would be commonly defined as an at-risk child. However, he drew on his resilience to positively respond to adversities and resist the socially imposed stereotype. Putting Xiaobao’s and Xiaoliu’s stories together, I consider resistance to be a form of resilience when no other resources (e.g., schooling, social support, money) are made readily available and accessible to children in highly adverse conditions. Such resilience is a process of socialisation that enculturates Xiaobao and Xiaoliu into a system of dispositions (habitus) and a set of capacities (capital) required for rebounding from adversities. Resilience-cum-resistance is empowering in an era when mainstream ideologies are taken as universal truth without question and when imposed stereotypes are mistakenly understood as social norms. Resilience-cum-resistance, therefore, calls for more attention to local, indigenous epistemologies, and urges a rethink of what are traditionally taken for granted as (un)desirable and what are arbitrarily defined as (un)acceptable. Xiaobao’s and Xiaoliu’s stories are informative. Question remains, however, in terms of whether resilience-cum-resistance is observable in a larger picture. To address this question, I now have recourse to a quantitative analysis of the resilience process of left-behind children and floating children, with a particular focus on the statistical patterns behind academic engagement and aspiration for the future.

Disengagement in mainstream schooling and deviation from stereotyped desirable future The sample for the current quantitative analysis was drawn from my larger project about student resilience and wellbeing in China (see project details in Chapter 3). The sample is composed of 708 students (52.3% female, 1.7% ethnic minority),

120  Process of resilience including 486 floating children and 222 left-behind children. At the time of the data collection, these children ranged in age between nine and 17 years (Mage = 12.64, SD = 1.92), and studied across Grades from Four to Nine. Apart from being floating children or left behind, these children were associated with various forms of adversities (see details in Chapter 3). A grouping variable was created on the basis of the levels of exposure to risk: one group consisting of 194 children exposed to at least three risk factors; and the other group consisting of 514 children exposed to less than three risk factors. Due to the accumulative effect of risk factors, the former group is considered to be a high-risk group. Three constructs included in the analysis are: child and youth resilience, academic engagement, and aspiration for the future. Reliability and validity of the three constructs have been justified through a psychometrically robust process (see details in Chapter 3). The analysis encompasses two stages. In the first stage, simple linear regression was used, treating resilience as a predictor/independent variable, and academic engagement and aspiration for the future as outcome/ dependent variables. Resilience has a statistically significant contribution to aspiration for the future (t = 9.26, p < .001; F = 85.80, p < .001), explaining 10.8% of the variance of aspiration for the future. In a similar vein, resilience has a statistically significant contribution to academic engagement (t = 7.94, p < .001; F = 62.98, p < .001), explaining 7.3% of the variance of academic engagement. Results indicate that, in general, floating children and left-behind children who are socialised through a resilience process are more likely to be academically engaged and show aspiration for the future. This finding is known knowledge and largely fits the “mainstream” image of adversity, resilience, and “desired” outcomes. In the next stage, resilience was treated as an independent variable, and academic engagement and aspiration for the future were treated as dependent variables, with the grouping variable (exposure to adversity) added to the model as a moderator. The first model, resilience-exposure to adversity-academic engagement, fit well (F = 26.83, p < .001), with exposure to adversity demonstrating a statistically significant moderating effect (F = 5.78, p = .017) on the relationship between resilience and academic engagement. The second model, resilienceexposure to adversity-aspiration for the future, also fit well (F = 24.83, p < .001), with exposure to adversity demonstrating a statistically significant moderating effect (F = 5.32, p = .021) on the relationship between resilience and aspiration for the future. The results are shown in Tables 4.1 and 4.2. As shown in Table 4.1, the interaction of adversity and resilience has a significant negative effect on academic engagement (b = -0.19, t = -2.40, p = .017). This means that the contribution of resilience to academic engagement becomes weaker for children exposed to at least three risk factors, compared to that for those exposed to less than three risk factors. By the same token, the interaction of adversity and resilience has a significant negative effect on aspiration for the future (b = -0.42, t = -2.31, p = .021). This means that the contribution of resilience to aspiration for the future becomes weaker for children exposed to at least three risk factors, compared to that for those exposed to less than three risk factors.

Process of resilience 121 Table 4.1 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between resilience and academic engagement Predictors

b

t

p

Constant Adversity Resilience Adversity*resilience

3.76 −0.28 0.27 −0.19

133.10 −4.26 6.55 −2.40

*** *** *** .017

Dependent variable: academic engagement; *** p < .001

Table 4.2 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between resilience and aspiration for the future Predictors

b

t

p

Constant Adversity Resilience Adversity*resilience

3.41 −0.27 0.41 −0.42

100.36 −2.36 7.04 −2.31

*** .019 *** .021

Dependent variable: aspiration for the future; *** p < .001

In general, floating children and left-behind children who are socialised through a resilience process tend to demonstrate higher levels of academic engagement and aspiration for the future. Interestingly, the “magic” resilience effect on academic engagement and aspiration for the future seems to fade when floating children and left-behind children are faced with multiple adversities (at least three risk factors). This fading effect is graphed in Figures 4.2 and 4.3. The working mechanism of resilience here is in line with the protective-reactive model (Luthar, Cicchetti, & Becker, 2000). I now provide a sociological explanation. For floating children and left-behind children exposed to at least three risk factors, resilience would manifest less in the forms of academic engagement and aspiration for the future, when compared to their counterparts exposed to less than three risk factors. It would be empirically wrong, however, to claim that floating children and left-behind children exposed to high risks are less socialised into the process of resilience. Instead, these children may have been socialised into a resilience process diametrically different from the “mainstream” epistemologies of resilience that define academic engagement and aspiration for the future as desired outcomes. Indeed, by dint of resilience, floating children and left-behind children have a strong sense of subjective wellbeing (b = .46, SE = .05, t = 9.24, p < .001), whereas exposure to adversity does not statistically moderate the relationship between resilience and subjective wellbeing of these children (p = .948). The p value approaching 1 evidently indicates that floating children and left-behind children exposed to high risks, despite their lower levels of academic engagement and aspiration for the future, still perceive themselves

Figure 4.2 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between resilience and academic engagement

5.00

Aspiration

4.00

3.00

2.00

1.00 .00

1.00

2.00 3.00 Resilience

4.00

5.00

Children exposed to less than three risk factors Children exposed to at least three risk factors

Figure 4.3 Moderation effect of adversity on the relationship between resilience and aspiration for the future

Process of resilience 123 to be materially, physically, psychologically, and socially well (exactly like Xiaobao and Xiaoliu!). It is by no means my intention to claim that academic engagement and aspiration for the future are not important for these children. But the data here show some evidence that floating children and left-behind children, when faced with multiple adverse conditions, may have their own worldviews about what they want to engage and what they should aspire. For floating children and left-behind children plagued by multiple adversities, staying in mainstream schools would mean continuous suffering from the conflicting aspirations that schools open and close for them at one and the same time. On the one hand, school seems to incline these children to reject dominated social positions, engage in socially anticipated adaptations, and break the “natural” cycle of working-class reproduction “by provisionally setting them apart from productive activities and cutting them off from the world of work” (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 185). On the other hand, school leads these children “to reject the only future accessible to them but without giving any guarantee for the future that it seems to promise” (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 185). Therefore, resistance to mainstream schooling and stereotyped definitions of desirables is a form of resilience in the face of structural constraints. In this respect, floating children and left-behind children are different from the subproletariat described by Bourdieu (1999, p. 185) as “fated by lack of power over the present” with “an absolute uncertainty about the future”. On the contrary, these children engage in a resilience process that enables them to choose their present and define their future.

Resistance, resilience, and sociological implications You think I’m an ignorant savage and you’ve been to so many places. I guess it must be so. But still I cannot see if the savage one is me, how can there be so much that you don’t know . . . You think the only people who are people are the people who look and think like you. But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you will learn things you never knew . . . Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon, or asked the grinning bobcat why he [sic] grinned? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains? Can you paint with all the colours of the wind? Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest. Come taste the sun sweet berries of the Earth. Come roll in all the riches around you. And for once, never wonder what they’re worth. (From Lyrics of the Colours of the Wind by Stephen Schwartz, 1995)

Mainstream ideologies would portray Xiaobao as an undisciplined student, a low academic performer, and an early school leaver who did not have cultural and social capital required for life success. As a result, he had to end up as a postdelivery man in his family business. Yet Xiaobao refused to submit to the socially imposed stereotype. He purposefully deviated himself from school where he did not belong and happily engaged in gainful employment in his family business right after he dropped out of school. Xiaobao did not have a sense of impotence although he left school and started working much earlier than most of his peers. In this respect, early school leaving and early entry into the labour market were

124  Process of resilience Xiaobao’s strategic life choices, demonstrating his resilience in the face of structural constraints. Xiaobao is tantamount to the “troubled teens” whose patterns of deviance are healthy adaptations that permit them to survive unhealthy circumstances (Ungar, 2002). Although Xiaobao’s life choices were aberrant from socially desired life trajectories and hence interpreted normatively as indicative of failure, incapacity, or lack of aspiration, he constructed an alternative pathway to wellbeing through which he redefined life satisfaction, social belonging, and power. In this vein, Xiaobao’s resistance to the imposed stereotype manifested his hidden resilience that would often be overlooked and misrecognised by mainstream ideologies. In a similar vein, mainstream ideologies would portray Xiaoliu as a disadvantaged left-behind child engaging in long-hour, arduous labour work with an exploitative nature. Living and growing up in a suboptimal rearing environment normally undermines young people’s wellbeing. Yet Xiaoliu rejected any arbitrary labelling scheme of vulnerability or risk. Despite having been born into an impoverished rural family and having to grow up without sound parenting, Xiaoliu has developed into a confident social person and a significant member who has made valued, recognised contributions to his family. He drew on his resilience to protest against pejorative ascribed identities and access symbolic capital beneficial for rebounding from adversities. The identity-making here is less about poststructural constructions of fluid, emergent, or contradictory identities but more about sociological negotiations of the tensions between agency and structure in precarious conditions. Xiaoliu’s resistance to identity prescription and ascription vocalised the alternative views from the margins, and hence can be acknowledged as a resilience approach to counteracting “what he has been told” and questioning the established mainstream understanding of health and risk. Consistent with the qualitative work, the quantitative analysis in this chapter indicates that floating children and left-behind children, especially those living in highly unfavourable circumstances, tend to engage in purposeful living that demonstrates patterns of resilience different from socially desired ones. Stories of these young people urge a rethink of the open dichotomies of problem and performance, of resistance and resilience. The structural dichotomies fail to encapsulate the lived experiences of traditionally marginalised children, underestimate their capacities of controlling their own present and designing their own future, and overlook the ways how they construe and define themselves. Unless their insights are voiced, respected, and legitimised, their alleged vulnerability and imposed marginalisation are likely to continue and prevail. Reframing resistance as resilience helps to recognise the resources of the marginal cultures, the values of the indigenous voices, and the power of the socially defined vulnerable groups. Drawing on their resilience-cum-resistance, these young people, though being occupants of precarious social positions, turn out to be “extraordinary practical analysts” (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 511): Situated at points where social structures “work”, and therefore worked over by the contradictions of these structures, these individuals are constrained, in

Process of resilience 125 order to live or to survive, to practice a kind of self-analysis, which often gives them access to the objective contradictions which have them in their grasp, and to the objective structures expressed in and by these contradictions. Of course, floating children and left-behind children were not born with these practical analytical skills. Instead, these have been enculturated into a habitus of resilience through family upbringing and socialisation. Such resilience helps me to understand why Xiaobao hated school with a passion, why he did not regret leaving school early, and why these outcomes were socially accepted within his family. Such resilience also helps me to understand why Xiaoliu could bear the hard work at his family’s wonton stall for long hours, almost without stopping, to ensure support to his grandparents; and why his grandparents were so proud of his contribution to the family. Their resilience also encompassed a set of capacities and capitals valued by themselves and their families. Their populism, stoicism, and optimism give me a better understanding of from where their resilience emanates, of how they can survive and thrive in the face of adversities so great that would have pressed many young people to collapse. Although resilience can emerge from various source, family seems to be the primary source of resilience of Xiaobao and Xiaoliu. In the face of structural constraints, not all floating children and left-behind children succumb to symbolic violence or have their social agency completely oppressed. Xiaobao and Xiaoliu, together with many floating children and leftbehind children with whom I have worked over the years, have led a life in ways that they and their families could see as good. In the face of the symbolic violence of the neoliberal expectations of social success and performance, many floating children and left-behind children reject stereotyped doxa and classed identities. They question the predetermined common sense. They claim their ordinariness in a way of just being themselves. Their ordinariness is an attribute of being honest to a normative everydayness, rather than fooling themselves with “bad faith” – “one’s own lies to oneself” (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 205). They are tantamount to the White working-class boys with a deeply engrained habitus of “loyalty to self” (Stahl, 2015, p. 72) – the discomfort in acting like something that they are not or performing an identity that they perceive to be inauthentic. These children constantly remind people in power of the power from the margins. In this respect, their resilience is manifested in their resistance to neoliberal prerogatives of schooling and normative societal expectations. Nevertheless, floating children and left-behind children might have been labelled as at risk, vulnerable, or problematic elsewhere. If such arbitrary labelling does not leave the scene, child and youth resilience research would remain haunted by devils of deficit model. The deficit model lays an epistemological basis for problem-based analysis of children and adolescents – a “scientific paradigm” of which governments and policies are particularly in favour. This is understandable because young people are framed as adults-in-the-making and problem-based analysis of these young people lends itself to the prediction, and hence prevention, of future problems. The problem-based approach legitimates prevention as

126  Process of resilience a socially desired way of managing and governing young populations. Although the approach has undoubtedly improved the lives of certain young people at certain times, it is largely built on the grounds of predetermined “good” and “bad” outcomes, and “desired” and “undesired” futures. When such an approach diagnoses certain young people as sliding towards “bad” outcomes and “undesired” futures, these young people are immediately put in jeopardy and labelled as at risk in a universal sense, based on the problem-based analytical logic that if intervened, corrected, or saved early on, they will achieve a “good”, “desired” future, instead of becoming depraved adults. The problem-based approach understands young people as adults-in-the-making, rather than social agents for now and in their own right. Such an understanding often misses, or even misrecognises, the nuances and dynamics of young people’s lived experiences. Some young people draw on their resilience to resist the socially desired way of being and doing, and hence falsify any arbitrary claims about their present and prospective life. When marginalised young people consider mainstream options to be constraining and opt for their own desirables, their resistance may at times further marginalise themselves from mainstream social space and further deviate themselves from conventional success. However, their resistance is also indicative of their resilience in terms of recognising and realising their own values and worldviews and breaking the delimiting boundaries set by others. Their resistance here has nothing to do with cynicism or nihilism. It instead points to the very reality and complexity of the social world that is fraught with clashing interests, orientations, and lifestyles. Consequently, resilience research and practice require an approach of what Bourdieu (1999, p. 3) calls “the multiple perspectives” to replace the “simplistic and one-side images”; to “relinquish the single, central, dominant, in a word, quasi-divine, point of view that is all too easily adopted by observers – and by readers too”; to “correspond to the multiplicity of coexisting, and sometimes directly competing, points of view”; and to articulate “a complex and multi-layered representation” and “the same realities but in terms that are different and, sometimes, irreconcilable”. Different from measurable and tangible individual and environmental hazards, symbolic violence is invisible, hard to measure, and hence more brutal. Invisibility equals death. In this chapter, I have made an attempt to visualise the hidden resilience of floating children and left-behind children. The resilience of these children is unique, manifested in resistance to symbolic violence rather than coping with tangible hazards. Instead of telling these children, their families, and their communities what to do, I assert that floating children and left-behind children can become our teachers who show us resistance and resilience in time of change and challenge. Their resilience-cum-resistance provides a unique opportunity to critique and reconstruct dominant worldviews, institutions, and doxa. But this form of resilience may not eventually shift power relations or shake the established social hierarchy and hegemony. Question remains, however, in terms of how to enhance access to mainstream capitals required for social participation and mobility and how to enculturate marginalised young people into a habitus of

Process of resilience 127 resilience required for accessing and using mainstream capitals to break structural limits and bounce back from structural adversities. In the following chapters, I showcase school-based and community-based resilience praxes that counteract the structural constraints facing floating children and left-behind children in the internal migration context of contemporary China.

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128  Process of resilience Goffman, E. (1951). Symbols of class status. The British Journal of Sociology, 2(4), 294–304. doi:10.2307/588083 Han, J. (2004). Survey report on the state of compulsory education among migrant children in Beijing. Chinese Education & Society, 37(5), 29–55. Hernandez-Martinez, P., & Williams, J. (2013). Against the odds: Resilience in mathematics students in transition. British Educational Research Journal, 39(1), 45–59. doi:10.1080/01411926.2011.623153 Hu, Y., Lonne, B., & Burton, J. (2014). Enhancing the capacity of kin caregivers and their families to meet the needs of children left behind. China Journal of Social Work, 7(2), 131–144. LaFromboise, T. D., Hoyt, D. R., Oliver, L., & Whitbeck, L. B. (2006). Family, community, and school influences on resilience among American Indian adolescents in the upper Midwest. Journal of Community Psychology, 34(2), 193–209. Libório, R. M. C., & Ungar, M. (2010). Children’s perspectives on their economic activity as a pathway to resilience. Children & Society, 24(4), 326–338. doi:10.1111/j.1099-0860.2009.00284.x Luthar, S. S., Cicchetti, D., & Becker, B. (2000). The construct of resilience: A critical evaluation and guidelines for future work. Child Development, 71(3), 543–562. Masten, A. S., & Obradovi, J. (2008). Disaster preparation and recovery: Lessons from research on resilience in human development. Ecology and Society, 13(1), 9–25. Mu, G. M., & Hu, Y. (2016). Living with vulnerabilities and opportunities in a migration context: Floating children and left-behind children in China. Rotterdam/ Boston/Taipei: Sense Publishers. Mu, G. M., & Jia, N. (2016). Rural dispositions of floating children within the field of Beijing schools: Can disadvantaged rural habitus turn into recognised cultural capital? British Journal of Sociology of Education, 37(3), 408–426. doi:10.1080/01 425692.2014.939264 Mu, G. M., Zheng, X., Jia, N., Li, X., Wang, S., Chen, Y., . . . Diezmann, C. (2013). Revisiting educational equity and quality in China through Confucianism, policy, research, and practice. The Australian Educational Researcher, 40(3), 373–389. doi:10.1007/s13384-013-0113-0 National Women’s Association. (2013). 我国农村留守儿童、城乡流动儿童状况研究 报告[The national report of the current status of left-behind children and floating children]. Beijing: National Bureau of Statistics Press. OECD. (2012). Equity and quality in education: Supporting disadvantaged students and schools. Paris: OECD Publishing. Song, M. (1999). Helping out: Children’s labour in ethnic businesses. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press. Stahl, G. (2015). Identity, neoliberalism and aspiration: Educating white working-class boys. Abingdon, Oxon, New York, NY: Routledge. Ungar, M. (2002). Playing at being bad: The hidden resilience of troubled teens. Lawrencetown, Nova Scotia: Pottersfield. Ungar, M. (2008). Resilience across cultures. British Journal of Social Work, 38(2), 218–235. doi:10.1093/bjsw/bcl343 Ungar, M. (2010). What is resilience across cultures and contexts? Advances to the theory of positive development among individuals and families under stress. Journal of Family Psychotherapy, 21(1), 1–16. doi:10.1080/08975351003618494

Process of resilience 129 Ungar, M., Ghazinour, M., & Richter, J. (2013). Annual research review: What is resilience within the social ecology of human development? Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, 54(4), 348–366. doi:10.1111/jcpp.12025 Valenzuela, A. (1999). Gender roles and settlement activities among children and their immigrant families. American Behavioral Scientist, 42(4), 720–742. doi:10.1177/0002764299042004009 Weber, M. (2009). Politics as a vocation. In H. H. Gerth & C. W. Mills (Eds.), From Max Weber: Essays in sociology (pp. 77–128). New York, NY: Routledge. Werner, E. E. (1992). The children of Kauai: Resiliency and recovery in adolescence and adulthood. Journal of Adolescent Health, 13(4), 262–268. doi:http://dx.doi. org/10.1016/1054-139X(92)90157-7 Willis, P. (1977). Learning to labour: How working-class kids get working-class jobs. Farnborough, UK: Saxon House.

5 Recreation, socialisation, and resilience The “magic” of physical activity

A playground is in fact the principal scene of the real life of children . . . the arena on which their true character and dispositions are exhibited. (Hunter, 1994, p. xiii)

Environmental disadvantage can lead to various negative outcomes for children and youths (Luthar & Zigler, 1991). Against the backdrop of internal migration in China, floating children and left-behind children have to grow up and live in an unfavourable environment. The total number of floating children and left-behind children is approaching 100 million (National Women’s Association, 2013), accounting for one-third of the total child population in Mainland China. The massive population of floating children and left-behind children as well as its associated social problems and negative outcomes are phenomenal. Therefore, resilience matters in the contemporary Chinese context, where the status of being floating or left behind is a significant threat to child and youth wellbeing (Y. Hu, Lonne, & Burton, 2014; Mu & Hu, 2016; Mu & Jia, 2016). To counteract the structural deficiencies and promote the wellbeing of floating children and left-behind children, this chapter discusses possible pathways to resilience, with a particular focus on the role of physical activity. I am interested in the role of physical activity in the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children mainly for two reasons. First, the relationship between physical activity and resilience may vary across urban and rural samples (Moljord, Moksnes, Espnes, Hjemdal, & Eriksen, 2014). Therefore, I include both the “urban” sample (the floating children) and the rural sample (the left-behind children) in this chapter. These two samples were selected from diametrically different geographic locations, namely urban versus rural. But these two groups of sampled children have a socially symbiotic relationship give the shaping geopolitics of their lived experiences. Second, parental support is widely recognised as an irreplaceable sociocultural correlate of children’s engagement in physical activity (Beets, Cardinal, & Alderman, 2010; Mendonça, Cheng, Mélo, & de Farias, 2014; Sterdt, Liersch, & Walter, 2014). However, structural forces in the migration context pull parents away from floating children and leftbehind children (Mu & Hu, 2016). For floating children, their parents often

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 131 engage in labourious, long-hour work and barely have time to stay with them. For left-behind children whose parents work in cities, family members, usually grandparents, in rural communities often function as their primary caregivers. In this respect, parents of floating children and left-behind children are similar to those parents described by Mitchell et al. (2012) in their systematic review, whose busy work schedule and fatigue become inhibitors of their support to children’s physical activity. Promoting resilience through parental support to children’s physical activity may work elsewhere but not in the current context. It is practically impossible for parents of floating children and left-behind children to knowingly attend, discuss, or create physical activity-related opportunities for their children. These parents cannot afford overt, tangible support that comprises providing transportation to the activity venues, using family time to play together with children, serving as spectators or supervisors as children’s activities occur, purchasing activity equipment, and paying activity-incurred fees. Nor can they provide intangible support that encompasses encouragement of, feedback for, and instruction on, their children’s activity performance. With no or limited parental support, how does physical activity work in the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children? It is this question that the current chapter addresses. The chapter unfolds in several stages. First, to construct the empirical basis, I present a synoptic review of extant research that concerns the role of physical activity in child and youth resilience. Second, I intend to make meaning out of research participants’ stories about physical activity, and qualitatively analyse their perceptions of participation in physical activity. The opportunities that such participation creates for recreation, socialisation, and resilience of floating children and left-behind children are discussed. Third, I shift to quantitative analyses, looking at the ways in which physical activity and resilience contribute to outcome variables (e.g., subjective wellbeing, peer relation, and social engagement). The mediating effect of resilience on the relationship between physical activity and outcome variables is established. Next, I engage in an in-depth discussion of research findings, problematising the deficit discourse, highlighting the eudaimonic perspective of wellbeing, and pointing to the compensatory model in child and youth resilience research. I conclude the chapter with implications for future studies and intervention practices regarding building resilience of floating children and left-behind children. To start with, I review current literature that concerns the role of physical activity in child and youth resilience.

Physical activity: benefits for health and implications for resilience There is copious scientific evidence on the benefits of physical activity for public health, specifically for the outcomes of cancer, cardiorespiratory, metabolic, musculoskeletal, and functional health (WHO, 2010). Such evidence is also crystal clear on child and youth populations (Erwin, Fedewa, Beighle, & Ahn, 2012). In recognition of the benefits of physical activity for youngsters’ physiological

132  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience health, WHO (2010) sets out a global guideline that suggests a minimum of one hour moderate- to vigorous-intensity physical activity daily for children and adolescents aged between five and 17 years old, irrespective of their gender, race, and socioeconomic status. For these young people, physical activity refers to their engagement in “play, games, sports, transportation, recreation, physical education, or planned exercise, in the context of family, school, and community” (WHO, 2010, p. 7). For high school students, Gerber et al. (2012) recommend a minimum of 30-minute moderate level physical activity for five days a week or 20-minute vigorous activity for three days a week. In China, recommendations from the State Council (2001a, 2011) are consistent throughout the decades, suggesting a guaranteed one hour intramural physical activity every school day. Although the aforementioned recommendations differ slightly in the frequency, duration, intensity, and type of physical activity, they both recognise the paramount importance of physical activity to the physiological health of children and adolescents. Beyond the physiological domain, physical activity contributes to mental/ psychological health. For example, physical activity was found to be inversely associated with depression amongst a sample of Chinese adolescents (Hong et al., 2009). In a sample of Norwegian adolescents, higher frequency of leisure time physical activity was found to be associated, though weakly, with lower levels of depression and anxiety, and higher levels of self-esteem (Moksnes, Moljord, Espnes, & Byrne, 2010). Similar results emerged from a representative sample of European adolescents whose frequent participation in physical activities and sports were found to promote wellbeing and attenuate depression and anxiety (McMahon et al., 2016). In addition to the aforementioned psychological correlates of physical activity, self-efficacy was found to be positively related to physical activity in the studies reviewed by Sterdt et al. (2014). Although the beneficial effects for reduced depression and anxiety on the one hand, and improved self-esteem and cognitive functioning on the other hand, are usually small, the association between physical activity and mental health for children and adolescents is evident (Biddle & Asare, 2011). The benefits of physical activity for youngsters can go beyond the domain of physiological and mental health. As physical activity is a complex, multidimensional behaviour, its correlates include numerous biological, psychological, sociocultural, and environmental factors (Sterdt et al., 2014). In the educational context, early studies consider athletic participation as an anathema to academic development (Conant, 1959; McEwin, 1981), whereas recent studies seem to suggest the flipside. Literature reviews consistently conclude with a positive relationship between physical activity and academic outcomes amongst children from ethnic minority or low-income backgrounds (Efrat, 2011), or children engaged in classroom-based physical activity interventions (Erwin et al., 2012). These reviews confirm the positive contribution of physical activity to students’ academic performance in literacy (e.g., language, reading, or writing), numeracy (e.g., mathematics), and science. Although there is a corpus of evidence on the benefits of physical activity for youngsters in health and education domains, empirical knowledge about the role

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 133 of physical activity in child and youth resilience is surprisingly inadequate. In an early study, Martinek and Hellison (1997) believed that physical activity, elicited in school physical education programs or extended day programs, was an excellent medium for building resilience of children and adolescents. They proposed a set of physical activity program guidelines in order to improve the resilience of underserved youngsters against high-risk conditions of their neighbourhoods. Their belief and proposal are echoed by a handful of recent studies that provide supporting evidence on the association between physical activity and resilience. For example, athletic participation in interscholastic and intramural sports activities was found to nurture resilience (measured by academic aspiration and investment) amongst eighth grade African American student athletes (Hawkins & Mulkey, 2005). Student athletes were found to have higher educational aspirations (e.g., to enrol in academic or college preparatory programs, to have definite plans to complete high school, and to attend college) than non-athletes. The impact of athletic participation on academic investment, though weaker and less consistent, tended to favour athletes over non-athletes. Similarly, team sports and physical activities were found to be positively correlated with resilience (measured by personal competence, social competence, family cohesion, social resources, and structured style) amongst junior high school students in Norway (Hjemdal, Friborg, Stiles, Martinussen, & Rosenvinge, 2006). In another Norwegian sample of adolescents aged between 13 and 18 years, the association between symptoms of anxiety and depression and infrequent participation in physical activities was attenuated by resilience aspects of family cohesion and social competence (Skrove, Romundstad, & Indredavik, 2013). In brief, there is budding evidence on the role of physical activity in building resilience of children and adolescents. Such resilience process has potential to generate positive outcomes in academic and social domains. Having said that, a common problem with extant studies (Hawkins & Mulkey, 2005; Hjemdal et al., 2006; Skrove et al., 2013) is the poorly defined/identified threatening factors. Situated in a normal context, these studies seem to mistakenly equate competence with resilience – a phenomenon emerging only from adverse contexts rather than a normal context. To complement existing literature, the current chapter wades into the relationship between physical activity and resilience of floating children and left-behind children who have to face various challenges emerging from the context of rural-to-urban migration. In what follows, I first draw on qualitative data to discuss how physical activity creates opportunities for recreation, socialisation, and resilience of floating children and left-behind children. I then draw on quantitative data to analyse how physical activity contributes to resilience and ultimately produces positive outcomes for these children.

Stories about physical activity: recreation, socialisation, and resilience The qualitative data reported in this chapter were drawn from my project about the wellbeing of floating children and left-behind children in China. The project data are multitudinous. Bearing in mind the focus of the current chapter, I sifted

134  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience through the project data and purposefully selected, analysed, and discussed those germane to children’s physical activity and its resilience outcomes. Before I come to grips with the qualitative data in relation to physical activity and its resilience outcomes for floating children and left-behind children, it is useful to briefly look at the scope of the qualitative component of my project. Qualitative data of the project were collected from multiple sources. In Beijing, I collected data from regular schools and community schools, where I worked with floating children, school teachers and principals, as well as community professionals. In Henan, I collected data from a school in a rural community, where I worked with left-behind children and their caregivers (grandparents) and teachers. In the research sites of both Beijing and Henan, I also worked with floating children and left-behind children who were willing to share their drawings and writings with me. I collected picture works from children in lower primary school years and essay samples from those in upper primary school years. In addition, longitudinal data have been collected through my periodical, though irregular, contact with a cohort of children who have had both ‘floating’ and ‘left-behind’ experiences. As this section unfolds, it will become clear how research participants consider children’s engagement in physical activity as an opportunity for recreation, socialisation, and resilience building. Children in lower primary school years were asked to draw things that they would like to do/have at the moment or in the future. When I analysed the picture works, I kept an open mind, without any expectation or preference, or looking for any pre-determined themes or particular clues of my personal interest. In this way, a few dominant themes naturally emerged from children picture works. These themes include, but are not limited to, career aspirations, life goals, academic objectives, and immediate needs. When I worked through the picture works, I coded any scene as ‘physical activity’, if the character in the picture appeared to be engaging in active bodily movement. I then included the code ‘physical activity’ in the theme ‘immediate needs’. Selected samples of picture works in relation to physical activity are shown in Figure 5.1. The characters in the pictures were flying a kite (up left), playing soccer (up right), or jumping up with a balloon in hand on a grassland (down left), or taking a cruise and waving to a flock of flying seagulls and a school of swimming fish (down right). The smiling faces in the pictures are indicative of the joyfulness and fun during physical activities. Apparently, physical activities meet children’s need for recreation. It is noteworthy, however, that each picture has only one character. It does not necessarily indicate that floating children or left-behind children would prefer playing alone to playing together. The absence of group physical activities in children’s picture works might be attributed to their younger age. It should be recalled that only children in lower primary school years were asked to draw pictures. These children may not yet feel comfortable and confident to draw multi-character pictures. More importantly, the “self-centered” theme in the picture works may be elicited by the defined topic “what would you like to do or have at the moment or in the future?”

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 135

Figure 5.1 Picture works of children in lower primary school years

Although group physical activities were absent in the picture works, they emerged from the analysis of essay samples collected from children in upper primary school years. These children were asked to write about what they liked best in school and what would make their school better. Physical activity was evidently one of the most written topics. In relation to things they liked best in school, children wrote things like “indoor tennis”, “everyone playing in groups instead of separate groups”, and “a lot of sports activities you can join to help you make friends”. In relation to things that would make their school better, children mentioned things like “playing dodge ball more often”, “more time to play outside”, “more sports teams to go in”, “longer gym period”, “more play equipment”, and “a bigger playground”. As one of the frequently mentioned likes and expectations, physical activity was perceived as an integral, rather than peripheral, part of children’s school life. These children consider physical activities as fun and recreation, and more importantly, as opportunities for socialisation, through which they can play in groups and make friends. In line with the findings from the analysis of picture works and essay samples, my ongoing contact with a cohort of children who have had both floating and left-behind experiences also reveals children’s perception of physical activity as an

136  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience experience of recreation and socialisation. Dongdong was born in a rural community in Henan (also see Preface). He was raised by his grandparents when his parents worked in Beijing. Although the grandparents looked after Dongdong very well, he grew up missing his parents. After having been left behind for ten years, Dongdong was brought to Beijing by his parents. This relocation cannot be oversimplified as a geographical shift. Rather, it was fraught with cultural shocks and social challenges. When Dongdong first came to Beijing, he had to learn to live with his parents – the most “familiar strangers”, and he had to recontextualise what he had read about the city of Beijing in textbook. At that time, Dongdong recalled a strong sense of alienation taking hold of him – a complicated feeling commonly experienced by floating children. For Dongdong, the city of Beijing was a complex social space, the dynamics and complexities of which came to tear Dongdong apart. On the one hand, Dongdong worked hard to seek belongingness to Beijing – his home away from home. On the other hand, his nostalgia constantly struck him and urged him to recall the rural experiences that he had left behind. The following two excerpts are telling: Now I live with my dad and mum but I miss my grandma and grandpa in my hometown. They (my grandparents) really like me. I also miss my friends there. One of them was really funny. Sometimes when I was alone, I often recalled playing with him. He was very funny. Once we played on top of a big stack of sand. Right beside the stack was a mire. There was dirty water in there. You know how funny he was. He lost his step and fell into the mire, upside down. He was really in the mire. His entire head was in the dirty water. Hahaha . . . How I wish I could play with him again. Sometimes I missed my friends in hometown. We often played on the farm. We played with clay. We made the clay into a ball and left it outside for one night. It became hard the next day, like really really hard. We had a ballthrowing competition. It was really funny. The two excerpts are replete with social meanings, but the core of the analysis here is physical activity. Dongdong’s loud of laugh, his repeated use of the word “funny”, and the semantic accentuation by the use of the word “really” consistently indicate the social worth of play-based activities with peers. What is important for Dongdong is not merely playing, but playing with his friends. The excerpts indicate that the meaning of physical activities often goes beyond recreation and relaxation. Perhaps more importantly, these activities create special opportunities for socialisation and interaction with peers. In other words, the mutually constitutive effect of recreation and socialisation is realised through play-based activities with peers. Data collected from adult research participants further revealed the recreationand socialisation-based physical activities of floating children and left-behind children. When asked about children’s needs, caregivers of left-behind children in Henan spoke of various forms of recreational activities, such as playing around in the local community, travelling during holiday times, and doing sports in school.

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 137 Most caregivers reportedly have made attempts to support children’s need for outdoor activities. They supported children’s participation in all sorts of playbased activities within the rural community, such as riding bikes, roller skating, playing with water pistols, shooting marbles, kicking shuttlecocks, playing hopscotch, playing hula hooping, raising pets, rope skipping, and playing with toys. Some caregivers invested time to accompany the physical activities of leftbehind children. Because of limited recreational areas in the rural community, some caregivers routinely took children to convenience shops or places on the roadside where villagers gathered. Some took children to parks in the city on special occasions, for example on the child’s birthday or the Children’s Day Holiday. Others engaged in the outdoor activities that left-behind children particularly preferred. One of them noted, “She likes to go out. She rides her own bike with me . . . I used to take her to walk around”. A few caregivers reportedly arranged travels for left-behind children during school holidays. One grandmother even took her granddaughter to different cities during holiday times. In addition to playing around within the local community and travelling during school holidays, caregivers were reportedly aware of children’s need for participation in school sports. For example, one caregiver reported that she spectated to support her granddaughter’s participation in school sports competition. She said, “Adult family members usually attend school sports events. As her grandma, I was more than happy to attend. I thought I could buy her some drinks or food during the day”. Recognising the benefits of physical activity for left-behind children, caregivers supervised and/or accompanied children’s play-based activities within the local community, made travel arrangements for children during school holidays, and/or spectated when children attended school sports. Caregivers’ support is of particular importance to left-behind children when parental support to physical activity is absent. Some caregivers thought that left-behind children would badly miss their parents and get upset had they stayed home all the time particularly during school holidays. In this respect, caregivers considered the benefits of outdoor physical activities to be manifold. These activities not only helped to please and entertain left-behind children, but also helped to comfort them and alleviate their depression or distress when they missed their parents. In this vein, the relationship between physical activity and resilience starts to emerge. Physical activity not only creates opportunities for recreation and socialisation but also functions as “pain relief pill” in the context where parental support is missing. The interview accounts of school teachers largely echo those of caregivers and further strengthen the evidence on the relationship between physical activity and resilience. Teachers of left-behind children in Henan believed that play-based interactions with peers alleviated the negative impact of parental absence on leftbehind children. Consider the following comment: Generally speaking, these children do miss their parents when their parents make money in the city. But they don’t just sit there and miss their parents all the time. They have playtime with classmates. While they are playing with

138  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience their classmates, they don’t seem to miss their parents. The pain of being left behind by parents seems to disappear. I haven’t found them miss their parents when they play in school. They have class in school, and go out to play with their classmates after class. Recognising the benefit of physical activity, another teacher purposefully created play-based opportunities for a left-behind child in her class: I encouraged other students to play with him. I found he’s gradually having more interactions with his classmates. Now he doesn’t get grumpy easily, but you know, he used to stay isolated and seemed to be aggressive . . . When parents are away to make money, I think we can create some group activities and get these children involved. In other words, we should give them a relaxed environment and create an environment they like. These interview accounts evidence the benefits of participation in physical activities for left-behind children. These activities do not merely create recreational opportunities in a particular physical place. Further, they construct a cultural space – a space of socialisation with peers, a space rife with a sense of pleasure, belonging, and connectedness. In this respect, physical activity seems to function as a resilience factor, which buffers the negative effect of parental absence on leftbehind children and produces positive outcomes in this unfavourable condition. Interviews with teachers of floating children in Beijing revealed the same findings. These teachers strongly encouraged children’s participation in school activities. One teacher explained: Each time the school organises activities, group activities such as sports competition or stage show, we talk to them (floating children) and encourage them to participate and contribute. We must not discriminate against these children. Let them get involved and become part of it. They will get happy. Another teacher explicitly addressed the importance of school sports: We do sports for kids, particularly team sports, for example volleyball. When kids play volleyball, they are active, and they are active in teamwork. It’s good for their growth and development. Most kids in this school, whether Beijing children or floating children, are the single child of the family. They spend time with grandparents or parents at home. I think they have to learn to get along with their peers and teammates. Volleyball requires cooperation between teammates. Kids learn how to become strong and beat the odds. Furthermore, they learn how to get along with other kids. This is particularly important for floating children. Their parents are always busy at work. Most time they are alone at home. The volleyball team is like their family. Teammates are like their siblings. I often have floating children tell me: “volleyball teaches me the main points about life”, “volleyball teaches me

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 139 responsibility”, “I have learned to set goals and achieve them”, and “I think I just need to get stronger and overcome the difficulty”. “To set goals and to achieve them” and “to get stronger” have a connotation of prospective and future, and seem to suggest the role of physical activity in these children’s hypothetical life project. In this respect, the resilience effect of participation in physical activities is not constrained within the current timeframe. Rather, it is also a temporal and prospective project. Although resilience is a multidimensional process and dependent upon multifaceted factors, the qualitative data reported by floating children and left-behind children as well as their teachers and caregivers consistently indicate that physical activity can lead up to resilience outcomes of floating children and left-behind children. These children have learned to become strong, engaged, and responsible in the face of difficulty through their participation in physical activities. The preliminary finding regarding the relationship between physical activity and resilience prompts me to look for statistical evidence in a larger picture.

Statistical evidence: physical activity, resilience, and positive outcomes The sample used in the current chapter was drawn from my project about student wellbeing and resilience in China. A detailed description of the project is available in Chapter 3. The sample composes 708 students (52.3% female, 1.7% ethnic minority), including 486 floating children and 222 left-behind children. At the time of the data collection, these students ranged in age between nine and 17 years (Mage = 12.64, SD = 1.92) and were studied across Grades from Four to Nine. Apart from being floating children or left-behind children, these students were associated with various forms of adversities. Their exposure to different levels and forms of adversities is detailed in Chapter 3. In this sample, 194 (27.4%) students were associated with at least three risk factors. The percentage is higher than that in the sample of the larger project (15.6%). Self-reported frequencies of attending sports or physical activities during the previous week and a common week were used as indicators for participants’ level of physical activeness. This self-reporting strategy strongly aligns with the common practice of measuring physical activity in the literature (Moksnes et al., 2010; Moljord et al., 2014; Prochaska, Sallis, & Long, 2001). When grappling with the relationship between physical activity and resilience, I took into account a set of resilience outcomes. Decision making behind the selection of outcome variables was informed by the qualitative findings. These outcome variables were measured by a set of psychometrically robust scales (see Chapter 3), including subjective wellbeing (α = .86), peer relation (α = .77), and social engagement (α = .77). Physical activity has a significant contribution to subjective wellbeing (F = 33.16, p < .001; b = .06, p < .001; R2 = 4.49%); peer relation (F = 14.32, p < .001; b = .06, p < .001; R2 = 1.99%), and social engagement (F = 69.91, p < .001; b = .11, p < .001; R2 = 8.06%). Although the effect size (see R2) is relatively small,

140  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience floating children and left-behind children who are more physically active in their daily life tend to be happier with their status across different life domains (e.g., standard of living, health, life achievement, personal relationships, safety, and belongingness to community); have stronger connections with peers in school; and engage in more discussions of political and social issues as well as higher levels of participation in volunteer work, paid work, family chores, and religious activities. Physical activity has a significant contribution to resilience (F = 28.55, p < .001; b = .07, p < .001; R2 = 3.89%). That is to say, floating children and left-behind children who are more physically active in their daily life are more likely to be socialised into a resilience process in the face of adversities emerging from the migration context. In addition to the risk factors of being floating and being left-behind, it is recalled that 27.4% of the sampled children were associated with at least three risk factors. Therefore, it is useful to take into account risk level when examining the relationship between physical activity and resilience of floating children and left-behind children. Interestingly, the interaction between physical activity and adversity does not have significant impact on resilience (b = -.03, p = .28; R2 Change = 0.17%, F Change = 1.15, p = .28). That is to say, the contribution of physical activity to resilience remains statistically invariant when taking into account adversity. This finding indicates that physical activity seems to be a robust resilience factor irrespective of forms and levels of adversity. Physical activity and resilience, when working together, have significant contributions to outcome variables (subjective wellbeing: F = 169.64, p < .001, R2 = 32.49%; peer relation: F = 120.83, p < .001, R2 = 25.53%; and social engagement: F = 69.00, p < .001, R2 = 16.37%). All of the above results intimate the mediating effect of resilience on the relationship between physical activity and outcome variables. Process Analysis (Hayes, 2013) was used to decipher the relationships between physical activity, resilience, and outcome variables (e.g., subjective wellbeing, peer relation, and social engagement). Physical activity was treated as the independent variable, desirable outcomes were treated as dependent variables, and resilience was treated as the mediating variable between the independent variable and the dependent variables. Significance of mediating effect was examined by Sobel’s (1982, 1986) test. Resilience significantly mediates the relationship between physical activity and desirable outcomes (subjective wellbeing: Z = 5.09, p < .001; peer relation: Z = 5.02, p < .001; and social engagement: Z = 4.48, p < .001). While resilience partially mediates the relationship between physical activity on the one hand and subjective wellbeing and social engagement on the other hand, it fully mediates the relationship between physical activity and peer relation. When resilience was added to the model, the direct relationship between physical activity and peer relation became non-significant (b = .02, p = .19). Rather, the relationship between the two was fully mediated through resilience. The mediating effects of resilience on the relationship between physical activity and outcome variables are summarised in Table 5.1.

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 141 Table 5.1 Mediating effects of resilience Subjective wellbeing Total effect (b) Model fit of total effect model (F) Direct effect (b) Model fit of direct effect model (F) Indirect effect (b) Contribution of resilience (b) Mediation effect (Z) Variance explained (R2)

Peer relation

Social engagement

.06*** 33.16***

.06*** 14.32***

.11*** 61.91***

.03*** 169.64***

.02 120.83***

.09*** 69.00***

.03*** .45***

.04*** .56***

.02*** .32***

5.09*** 32.49%

5.02*** 25.53%

4.48*** 16.37%

Note: * p < .05; *** p < .001

Before claiming the effect of physical activity on the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children, one more empirical question needs to be answered. Does physical activity really socialise these children into a resilience process in the face of adversities, or does it just make them better performers amongst a group of poor performers? To answer this question, a comparative analysis was conducted between the sample of floating children and left-behind children and a sample of 894 children with no self-reported risk. The latter sample was drawn from my project about student wellbeing and resilience in China (see Chapter 3). The development trajectory of these no-risk children was considered to be “regular”, “typical”, or “normal”. Such a comparative analysis between the at-risk group (the sample of floating children and left-behind children) and the no-risk group is of merit. Without this comparison, floating children and leftbehind children might be mistakenly identified as “resilient”, whereas they are de facto the better performers amongst a group of low performers. Comparative analysis was conducted in two stages. In the first stage, cluster analysis was conducted on the sample of 708 floating children and left-behind children, using resilience, physical activity, subjective wellbeing, peer relation, and social engagement as indicators. As shown in Figure 5.2, cluster analysis yielded two clusters. The first cluster, termed as the non-resilient cluster, was composed of 316 children with less frequent participation in physical activities, a weaker sense of resilience, and lower levels of subjective wellbeing, peer relation, and social engagement. The second cluster, termed as the resilient cluster, was composed of 392 children with more frequent participation in physical activities, stronger sense of resilience, and higher levels of subjective wellbeing, peer relation, and social engagement. In the second stage, a comparative analysis was conducted between the norisk group (n = 894) and the resilient group (n = 392). Regarding the demographic features, no significant difference was found between the two groups in gender (χ2 = .68, p = .43), school level (χ2 = 3.71, p = .06), and nationality

142  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience Indicators subjective wellbeing peer relation social engagement resilience physical activity

0.6

Standardised scores

0.4 0.2 0.0000 -0.2 -0.4 -0.6 -0.8 Cluster 1

Cluster 2

Figure 5.2 Cluster analysis (physical activity, resilience, and desirable outcomes)

(χ2 = .58, p = .48). Although the mean age of the no-risk group is statistically significantly higher than that of the resilient group (t = 2.12, p = .03), the effect size of this difference is small (r = .06), indicating that the mean age of the former (Mage = 12.24) is only slightly higher than that of the latter (Mage = 12.02) in practice. It can be therefore assumed that the only meaningful demographic difference between the two groups may be attributed to exposure to risk, that is, being floating or left behind versus having no risk. Further comparative analyses resulted in some encouraging and inspiring findings. Although the life experience of being a floating child or a left-behind child statistically places children in an unfavourable condition, those children who are socialised into a resilience process significantly outperform their no-risk peers in subjective wellbeing (t = 2.87, p < .005, r = .09), peer relation (t = 7.00, p < .001, r = .21), and social engagement (t = 10.73, p < .001, r = .29). Resilience rests on a wide spectrum of factors. The data available here are unable to build the causal relationship between physical activity and resilience. Nevertheless, findings here suggest the facilitative role of physical activity in the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children. The working mechanism of physical activity in the resilience process warrants further analysis. To this end, a comparative analysis was conducted between the sample of floating children and left-behind children (n = 708) and the sample of children with no self-reported risk (n = 894). No significant demographic difference was found between the two samples. Specifically, the two samples were not statistically different in terms of gender (χ2 = .00, p = 1.00), nationality (χ2 = .15, p = .69), age (t = 6.13, p = .54), and grade (t = -1.72, p = .09). It can be therefore

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 143 claimed that the only demographic difference between the two groups can be attributed to exposure to risk, that is, being floating or left behind versus having no risk. Although in general, participation in physical activity has a positive contribution to subjective wellbeing, peer relation, and social engagement, no interaction effect between physical activity and group condition was found. That is to say, group condition does not have significant moderating effect on the relationship between physical activity on the one hand and subjective wellbeing (p = .89), peer relation (p = .44), and social engagement (p = .71) on the other hand. In other words, participation in physical activity does not reduce exposure to the risk of being floating or left behind, but seems to be statistically equally beneficial to floating children and left-behind children on the one hand, and no-risk children on the other. As discussed in Chapter 2, the working mechanism of participation in physical activity follows the compensatory model of resilience building.

Problematising the deficit model and the ‘epistemological parochialism’ Existing literature has paid intensive attention to the wellbeing of floating children and left-behind children. What floods this literature, however, is the problem-based, deficit discourse. For example, left-behind children, when compared to their “mainstream” peers, are believed to have a less healthy diet and lower rates of physical activity (Yang et al., 2010); lower intake of some nutrients and poorer physical development related to nutrition (Luo et al., 2008); poorer physical health-related quality of life (Jia, Shi, Cao, Delancey, & Tian, 2010); more risk behaviours (e.g., smoking) (Lee, 2011; Yang et al., 2010) and more extreme behaviours (e.g., being withdrawn or aggressive) (L. Li, 2004); more symptoms of depression and anxiety (Biao, 2007; Cheng & Sun, 2015; Qiao, Chen, & Yuan, 2008); stronger sense of feeling abandoned, anguished, suffering, and inferior (S. Liang, 2004; Luo et al., 2008); more selfish, indifferent, and introverted mindset (Lee, 2011; Luo et al., 2008); as well as poorer academic standing, such as lower levels of confidence and interest in learning (W. Liang, Hou, & Chen, 2008), higher level of academic anxiety (Qiao et al., 2008), and higher risk of school dropout (Y. Gao et al., 2010). The literature portrays floating children in an equally negative way (Mu & Hu, 2016). Compared to their “mainstream” peers, floating children are believed to have lower school attendance rate (Z. Liang & Chen, 2007); lower age-appropriate immunisation/vaccination rates (X. Hu, Xiao, Chen, & Sa, 2012; Z. Liang, Guo, & Duan, 2007; Sun et al., 2010); poorer oral health (X.-L. Gao, McGrath, & Lin, 2011); as well as stronger sense of loneliness and lower self-esteem (X. Li et al., 2010). Although floating children and left-behind children are believed to be associated with numerous negative outcomes elsewhere, findings in this chapter show the bright side of the story and hence stand in stark contrast to the deficit constructions that pervades the literature. The chapter paints a positive image of floating children and left-behind children. It unveils the contribution of physical activity to these children’s wellbeing manifested in the smiling faces in their

144  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience picture works, the eagerness for intramural physical activities shown in their essays, the joyfulness and fun of participation in recreational activities, and the perceived value of play- and sports-based learning and socialisation. Current literature considers floating children and left-behind children to be disadvantaged, discontent, disappointed, dismayed, or discriminated. The deficit discourse constructs a ‘dis’ culture and epistemology, which can other and misrecognise floating children and left-behind children. The deficit discourse creates a willful blindness, contrived ignorance, or deliberate rejection to positive possibilities. It mistakenly equates differences with disabilities, disadvantages, and dysfunctions and hence discourages diversities. In this vein, the vulnerabilities of floating children and left-behind children are, at least partly, socially constructed through the deficit discourse – an ‘epistemological parochialism’. This chapter, however, has a sharp focus on the relationships between physical activity, resilience, and positive outcomes. The discussions around resilience emphasise the attributes and merits of floating children and left-behind children, aiming to transform their vulnerabilities into opportunities that are otherwise missed by the epistemological parochialism.

Working through the stories and the statistics: hedonism and eudaimonism In the qualitative part of the analysis, children participants openly narrated their pleasure gained through play-based activities. In the quantitative part of the analysis, physical activity was found to have a statistically significant contribution to subjective wellbeing – a set of self-perceived happiness across multiple life domains. However, it is by no means my intention to contend that physical activity only nourishes hedonism, through which people self-perceive their wellness, life satisfaction, and positive affect as well as the absence of negative affect (Diener, 1984, 1994). In this chapter, the meaning of play-based activities goes beyond hedonic perspective of happiness. Earlier, Vygotsky (1967) has explicitly denied the definition of paly on the basis of pleasure. Instead, “play is purposeful activity for a child” (Vygotsky, 1967, p. 16). Play-based activities are purposeful for floating children and left-behind children inasmuch as these activities create crucial opportunities for socialisation with peers and engagement in diverse social practices. Moreover, they create a critical learning moment of coping for these children particularly in situations where play-based activities, for example school sports, do not afford pleasure but “are very often accompanied by a keen sense of displeasure” (Vygotsky, 1967, p. 6) when the intensity of sports training and the outcome of sports game are unfavourable to children. In this case, the purpose of play for floating children and left-behind children can be described as “the imaginary, illusory realisation of unrealisable desires” (Vygotsky, 1967, pp. 7–8). The purpose of play discussed in Vygotskian thesis is evident in the current data. For floating children and left-behind children, physical activity not merely elicits hedonia. More importantly, physical activity is about socialisation through engagement and participation, as well as coping with difficulty, challenge, and

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 145 failure. Such a view works in tandem with eudaimonic paradigm of wellbeing, which highlights the positive relations with others, the healthy personal growth, the purposes and goals of human life, and the realisation and performance of human nature (Deci & Ryan, 2008; Ryan & Deci, 2001; Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008; Ryff, 1989; Ryff & Singer, 2006). In the current chapter, floating children and left-behind children overtly spoke of the eudaimonia hailing from their participation in physical activities. It is helpful to cite these children’s accounts again: “Volleyball teaches me the main points about life”; “Volleyball teaches me responsibility”; “I have learned to set goals and achieve them”; and “I think I just need to get stronger and overcome the difficulty”. Through participation in intramural sports, these children have learned to live well, actualise potential, and realise true nature. Such learning manifests their resilience that promotes eudaimonic wellbeing in the internal migration context of China more commonly associated with negative outcomes.

A compensatory model of building resilience The central discussion of this chapter is the role of physical activity in the resilience process of floating children and left-behind children. The contribution of physical activity to outcome variables (e.g., subjective wellbeing, peer relation, and social engagement) is either fully or partly mediated through resilience. The mediating effect of resilience on the relationship between physical activity and desirable outcomes is visualised in Figure 5.3. As shown in the figure, physical activity functions as a resilience factor that has the potential to buttress positive outcomes in the face of adversities, as shown in the current study. The resilience process here works in line with the compensatory model proposed by Garmezy, Masten, and Tellegen (1984) and Rutter (1985). Physical activity can be understood as a compensatory or promotive factor that neutralises negative outcomes of exposure to risks. However, physical activity does not have an interaction effect with the risk factors. That is to say, it does not recast floating children or left-behind children into normal, regular children as being floating and left behind are de facto status of these children. Having said that, physical activity has the potential to produce positive outcomes by counteracting

Child & youth resilience

Physical activity

Positive outcomes

Figure 5.3 Physical activity, resilience, and positive outcomes

146  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience or operating in an opposite direction of the risk factors. This resilience outcome is independent of risk factors – specifically the status of being floating and leftbehind. In this vein, participation and engagement in different forms physical activities construct a paradisiac sanctuary for floating children and left-behind children – an enabling and empowering social space of recreation, socialisation, and resilience. This paradisiac sanctuary seems to shield floating children and leftbehind children from being infringed by risk factors.

Implications for school professionals, community workers, and policy makers The State Council of the People’s Republic of China (2016) has promulgated the National Fitness Program (2016–2020) to improve the wellbeing of Chinese citizens, to meet the citizens’ diverse needs of engaging in various forms of physical activities, to provide more physical activity facilities in the communities, to encourage more investment in the industry of physical activity, and to formulate a physical activity-based ecology that nurtures the symbiotic and reciprocal development across science, education, culture, health, and social welfare sectors. The National Fitness Program explicitly states that children and adolescents constitute the main target population of the program. Accordingly, the National Fitness Program suggests strengthening the physical education in school, ensuring adequate school equipment and time specifically used for student participation in physical activity, defining the enhancement of student health awareness and behaviour as a core component of school education, including student health status as an indicator of school performance, and stressing the school accountability for attaining the aforementioned agendas. Beyond the school context, the National Fitness Program requires the systematic implementation of the Child and Youth Physical Activity Program and the continuous organisation of the Child and Youth Sunshine Conference of Physical Activity. The outcomes of these physical activity-based programs, as foreseen by the National Fitness Program, include the improvement of child and youth health, the increase of their interest in physical activity, and the development of their health behaviours. Apart from the National Fitness Program, many child-/student-focused policies specifically accentuate the significance of physical activity to child and youth health and wellbeing. The State Council (1992, 2001b, 2011), in its ten-year Guidelines for Child Development, repeatedly stresses the role of physical activity in child development and wellbeing, requiring governments at all levels to develop more public physical activity facilities for children and open these facilities to children free of charge or at a discounted rate, and requiring schools to develop intramural physical activity programs for students. The Ministry of Education, in its 2017 Key Work Objectives (Ministry of Education, 2017), echoes the importance of students’ participation in intramural physical activity, particularly participation in soccer. The Education Surveillance Committee of the State Council (2017) recently promulgated the Guidelines for Physical Education Surveillance

Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 147 and Evaluation in Primary and Secondary Schools. The Guidelines require schools to provide adequate physical and health education units, participate in the Child and Youth Sunshine Physical Activity Program, organise intramural sports activities, and periodically host sports conferences and competitions. The Guidelines also require fund support to improve the quality of school sports facility and physical education teacher training. Development of a student health profile and health standard is on the agenda of the Guidelines. In addition, the Guidelines have designed a set of indicators to evaluate physical education in schools. The aforementioned national policy documents provide a macro-, overarching framework for promoting child and youth physical activity. The current chapter, however, provides some micro-level, empirical evidence on the benefit of physical activity for floating children and left-behind children. In line with the national policy discourse, knowledge built and lessons learnt from this chapter have important implications for policy makers, school professionals, and community workers. First, it is urgent for policy makers in educational governments at various levels to provide institutional support to encourage the physical activity of floating children and left-behind children in school. Both the existing national guidelines/programs and the current chapter point to the need for policy makers in educational governments to consider integrating a guideline of intramural physical activities into school curriculum. Such curriculum will institutionalise the development and implementation of tailored school programs of physical activity to promote the wellbeing and resilience of floating children and leftbehind children. In this way, these tailored programs are institutionalised, legitimised, required programs that are not optional, but essential, for every school to offer for the sake of floating children and left-behind children. These programs equip schools with a legitimate tool and encourage school to wield more agency and power to engage in diverse pedagogic practices that are different from the competition-, performance-, and accountability-based schooling currently purported by the neoliberal logic. Second, school professionals are significant adults for floating children and leftbehind children. School leaders and teachers are encouraged to redefine school outcomes that are traditionally, and perhaps continuously, overemphatic about academic performance, while overlooking other, but equally important, aspects, such as physical activity. Both the national guidelines/programs and the current chapter contend that participation in intramural physical activity is not peripheral to, but part and parcel of, the school life of floating children and left-behind children. Accordingly, school leaders and teachers are encouraged to regain their professionalism that has been increasingly eroded by the neoliberal logic of standardisation of assessment and testing (Wang, Mu, & Zhang, 2017). To this end, school professionals are encouraged to design diverse physical activity programs that focus on the needs, interests, strengths, and differences of floating children and left-behind children. They are also encouraged to develop a meaningful relationship with these children and to serve as designers, supervisors, supporters,

148  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience mentors, trainers, coaches, role-models, companions, or/and spectators of these children’s intramural physical activity. These multiple roles can be performed through extended day programs that may operate as clubs before or/and after school; sports teams over multiyear periods; and theme-based programs during summer and winter holidays. Last but not least, local community workers can also play an active and important role in building the resilience of floating children and left-behind children. They are encouraged to engage in more community-based propaganda, which aims to increase the symbolic value of physical activity. They are also encouraged to organise group physical activities for floating children and left-behind children on weekends, public holidays, and school holidays. These community-based physical activity programs may aim to develop healthy peer relations within, and strong sense of belonging to, the local community. Through community-based programs, participating floating children and left-behind children can learn to take self-responsibility for their effort and goals, and to identify their potential, strengths, and contributions within teams. Participants can also learn to take social responsibility for respecting others and for being sensitive and responsive to others. In addition, community workers can empower participants by involving them in decision-making and group reflection regarding participation in physical activity programs. But more importantly, these community-based physical activity programs should not be treated as dispensable and should not be organised sporadically. Rather, community-based programs of physical activity that aim to build the resilience of floating children and left-behind children should be organised on an ongoing, regular basis. In the next chapter, I exemplify such a community-based resilience program.

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Recreation, socialisation, and resilience 151 Mu, G. M., & Jia, N. (2016). Rural dispositions of floating children within the field of Beijing schools: Can disadvantaged rural habitus turn into recognised cultural capital? British Journal of Sociology of Education, 37(3), 408–426. doi:10.1080/01 425692.2014.939264 National Women’s Association. (2013). 我国农村留守儿童、城乡流动儿童状况研究 报告[The national report of the current status of left-behind children and floating children]. Beijing: National Bureau of Statistics Press. Prochaska, J. J., Sallis, J. F., & Long, B. (2001). A physical activity screening measure for use with adolescents in primary care. Archives of Pediatrics & Adolescent Medicine, 155(5), 554–559. Qiao, L., Chen, X., & Yuan, P. (2008). Status of mental health of the left-behind children in certain regions of Sichuan. Modern Preventive Medicine, 16, 3108–3111. Rutter, M. (1985). Resilience in the face of adversity: Protective factors and resistance to psychiatric disorder. The British Journal of Psychiatry, 147(6), 598–611. doi:10.1192/bjp.147.6.598 Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2001). On happiness and human potentials: A review of research on hedonic and eudaimonic well-being. Annual Review of Psychology, 52, 141–166. Ryan, R. M., Huta, V., & Deci, E. L. (2008). Living well: a self-determination theory perspective on eudaimonia. Journal of Happiness Studies, 9(1), 139–170. doi:10.1007/s10902-006-9023-4 Ryff, C. D. (1989). Happiness is everything, or is it? Explorations on the meaning of psychological well-being. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 57(6), 1069–1081. doi:10.1037/0022–3514.57.6.1069 Ryff, C. D., & Singer, B. H. (2006). Best news yet on the six-factor model of well-being. Social Science Research, 35(4), 1103–1119. doi:http://dx.doi. org/10.1016/j.ssresearch.2006.01.002 Skrove, M., Romundstad, P., & Indredavik, M. S. (2013). Resilience, lifestyle and symptoms of anxiety and depression in adolescence: The Young-HUNT study. Social Psychiatry and Psychiatric Epidemiology, 48(3), 407–416. doi:10.1007/ s00127-012-0561-2 Sobel, M. E. (1982). Asymptotic confidence intervals for indirect effects in structural equation models. Sociological Methodology, 13, 290–312. Sobel, M. E. (1986). Some new results on indirect effects and their standard errors in covariance structure models. Sociological Methodology, 16, 159–186. doi:10.2307/270922 State Council, P. R. C. (1992). 九十年代中国儿童发展规划纲要[Guidelines for child development in China in the 1990s]. Beijing: State Council. State Council, P. R. C. (2001a). 中国儿童发展纲要2001–2010[Guidelines for child development in China 2001–2010]. Beijing: State Council. State Council, P. R. C. (2001b). 关于基础教育改革与发展的决定[Decision on the reform and development of basic education]. Beijing: State Council. State Council, P. R. C. (2011). 中国儿童发展纲要2011–2020[Guidelines for child development in China 2011–2020]. Beijing: State Council. State Council, P. R. C. (2016). 全民健身计划（2016–2020年）[National fitness program (2016–2020)]. Beijing: The State Council of the People’s Republic of China. Sterdt, E., Liersch, S., & Walter, U. (2014). Correlates of physical activity of children and adolescents: A systematic review of reviews. Health Education Journal, 73(1), 72–89.

152  Recreation, socialisation, and resilience Sun, M., Ma, R., Zeng, Y., Luo, F., Zhang, J., & Hou, W. (2010). Immunization status and risk factors of migrant children in densely populated areas of Beijing, China. Vaccine, 28(5), 1264–1274. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j. vaccine.2009.11.015 Vygotsky, L. S. (1967). Play and its role in the mental development of the child. Soviet Psychology, 5(3), 6–18. doi:10.2753/RPO1061-040505036 Wang, Y., Mu, G. M., & Zhang, L. (2017). Chinese inclusive education teachers’ agency within temporal-relational contexts. Teaching & Teacher Education, 61, 115–123. doi:10.1016/j.tate.2016.10.009 WHO. (2010). Global recommendations on physical activity for health. Geneva: WHO Press. Yang, G., Li Ping, L., Jean Hee, K., Congdon, N., Lau, J., & Griffiths, S. (2010). The impact of parental migration on health status and health behaviours among left-behind adolescent school children in China. BMC Public Health, 10, 1–10. doi:10.1186/1471-2458-10-56

6 Social capital and community-based resilience building Social Network Analysis, social connectedness, and social support Community facilitation of resilience requires a contextually-sensitive understanding of resilience, and how processes of resilience manifest in specific youth. (Jefferis & Theron, 2015, p. 76)

A community is more than a geographical place or residential area. It is a social space where a welcoming and enabling ecology is constructed on the grounds of reciprocal, supportive, and viable relationships and dynamic, robust, and sustainable collaborations. In the context of building child and youth resilience, these relationships and collaborations occur within and across stakeholders, including, but not limited to, parents, neighbours, educators, social workers, policy makers, child and youth service professionals, and, most importantly, young people themselves. In this respect, a resilience-facilitative community straddles microsystems of family, school, and neighbourhood with which children have direct and proximal contact; constructs mesosystems that galvanise interactions across these microsystems; and have strong potential to draw on resources available from exosystems of governments, funding agencies, and social organisations. These interrelated and inter-nested systems, whether micro-, meso-, or exo-, are crucial social spaces for children’s growth (Bronfenbrenner, 1979). Communities with healthy ecologies facilitate the resilience process of children and adolescents because they assume the responsibility of creating and maintaining safe, nurturing milieus for young people, empowering residents, and networking service professionals across agency boundaries (Linquanti, 1992). School-family-community partnership is vital to child and youth resilience (Bryan, 2005; Khanlou & Wray, 2014; Linquanti, 1992). In the contemporary Chinese context, however, large-scale internal migration and significant social constraints erode the family ecology of floating children and left-behind children and create structural problems behind the schooling of these children. When parts of the microsystems with which these children have immediate contact have broken down, it is of paramount importance to realise the potential of other ecological settings and develop an alternative pathway to resilience within available ecologies. Against this backdrop, community-based resilience work for the sake

154  Community-based resilience building of floating children and left-behind children comes to the fore. In this chapter, I report on my collaborative work with four community schools in Beijing, which provide free after-school hour service for floating children. Preliminary findings from this work provide implications for community-based approaches to building resilience of floating children. In the sections that follow, I first discuss empirical evidence on community-based child and youth resilience programs. I then provide a panoramic overview of the local policy context and the background of the four community schools. The focus of this chapter is on how social capital available through networking within community schools enables the resilience process of floating children.

Initiatives of community-based resilience building Brennan (2008) proposed a framework for youth and community resilience. Applications of the framework may include: (1) developing local social support structures; (2) promoting efforts to bring people from different parts of the community together; (3) empowering youth to become long-term contributors to local community development; and (4) creating opportunities for youths’ selfgrowth, skill enhancement, and leadership development. Much communitybased research on child and youth resilience strongly aligns with this framework. For example, within an inclusive education community, parents and teachers of children with disabilities were brought together to develop strength-based projects, small group work, and peer-mediated interventions in which children with and without disabilities interacted with one another (Harris, 2015). Such a community supported the interests of each child and developed children’s resilience and joy, despite their disabilities. In another example, a community-based program formulated a supportive group for divorced parents and their children (Regev & Ehrenberg, 2012). Participation in the program helped these children normalise their family situation, reduced their feelings of self-blame, and promoted their resilience in the context of parental divorce. In a further example, a church-community-based intervention strengthened the resilience of high-risk youths exposed to substance use (Johnson & Strader, 1996). When problems arose, these youths showed increased use of community services and community involvement, strengthened bonding with parents and siblings, and improved communication skills. In addition to the aforementioned programs, there is budding evidence on building youth resilience through community-based art projects. In high-risk inner city neighbourhoods, programs in a community arts centre fostered African American youths’ resilience in several ways (Rhodes & Schechter, 2014). First, the community arts centre created a safe space for youth to spend time, to develop self-pride, and to avoid and counteract the chronic exposure to antisocial culture. Second, the community arts centre created a social place for teaching, mentoring, and networking with different, resourceful others. Social capital was available through warm teacher-student relationships, high expectations, interpersonal connections, and sense of belongingness. Third, artistic participation in

Community-based resilience building 155 learning about arts, culture, music, and dance promoted person-level protective factors (e.g., self-efficacy, ethnic pride). In another example, a community-based arts project facilitated the resilience process of Korean youth in the context of school violence (Kim, 2015). The project freed these students from traumatic experiences of school violence, helped them recognise problems and developed problem-solving skills, involved them in creative thoughts, enjoyment, interest, and aesthetic sensibility; cultivated their community spirituality and sociability; and hence reframed adversities into possibilities and sources of strengths. In diasporic contexts, a steady stream of literature indicates the power of community-based resilience building for children and adolescents. Supportive American Indian community nurtured youths’ resilience to discrimination and adversities in households (LaFromboise, Hoyt, Oliver, & Whitbeck, 2006). Resilience was built for these young people when their community members cared about their school performance, sports participation, and heritage culture maintenance. A community-based participatory video program discovered that connections to supportive others (peers, social workers, teachers, parents, God) facilitated the resilience process of South African American girls (Jefferis & Theron, 2015). The program accentuated the co-constructed nature of resilience, highlighted the importance of social ecologies to resilience, and provided a fun-filled encouraging way of producing resilience knowledge. In Australia, psychosocial support provided through involvement in faith communities facilitated the development of resilience strategies for Australian Ismaili young people (Mitha & Adatia, 2016). This involvement developed social networks and brought a sense of meaning, purpose, and self-actualisation when these young people encountered stresses to mental health from migration and acculturation. In brief, extant literature consistently suggests the significance of communitybased initiatives of resilience building. Despite the varying contexts and foci, these initiatives evidently show that empowering social networking through community involvement is one of the most robust resilience tools for children and adolescents to respond to adversities. Following the route of this scholarship, I draw on Social Network Analysis and social capital theory to take stock of my collaborative work with four community schools in Beijing. This work has a particular focus on the wellbeing and resilience of floating children. For the purpose of the current chapter, I discuss how social connectedness has been developed as a conduit to the resilience process of floating children enrolled in these community schools. Before I proceed to report on this research work, I provide a panoramic overview of the policy context in Beijing and the background information of the community schools.

Local policy context in Beijing The Compulsory Education Law (National People’s Congress, 1986, 2006, 2015) stipulates that local governments should be responsible for the educational provision to school-aged children who are officially registered in their jurisdiction, as documented in the Household Registration System, and host governments

156  Community-based resilience building can make corresponding policies for the school admission of floating children. In recent years, small and medium-sized cities have become increasingly policyfriendly to floating children. In contrast, major floating children receiving cities, such as Shanghai and Beijing, have promulgated a series of policies that have created structural barriers for floating children to enter public schools. These restrictive, discriminatory policies manifest the governments’ neoliberal logic. On the one hand, these governments welcome migrant workers, attract them into the cheap labour market, and rhetorically celebrate their contributions to the local economy. On the other hand, these governments are not willing to share local resources with migrant workers. For example, floating children often do not have equal educational opportunities as their urban-born peers. The recently published “流动儿童蓝皮书：中国流动儿童教育发展报告2016” (Blue book of migrant children: Annual report on education for China’s migrant children 2016) shows that over two million floating children currently do not have access to free public schooling in cities (Yang, Qin, & Wei, 2017). To address educational equity, the State Council (2014), in its “国家新型城镇化规划” (National Plan on New Urbanisation), requires host governments to include the schooling of floating children in their educational and fiscal planning. In practice, however, host governments have much flexibility in policy-making. In Beijing, where four out of ten children are floating children (Yin, Yuan, & Ma, 2015), debates over free educational provision to these children are strident. However, inclusion of these children in public school system is not yet completely free. Although current policies do not explicitly exclude floating children from participation in free compulsory public schooling, institutional barriers seem to become even harder to leap over. During Hu’s populist government, policy rhetorics in Beijing were emphatic about service and management of migrant population. Therefore, public schools in Beijing were less inaccessible for floating children at that time. In the current Xi’s government, however, policy directives strongly align with the National Plan on New Urbanisation (State Council, 2014). Official discourses in government report and media coverage consistently accentuate the strict control over the anarchic population growth in Beijing. Consequently, institutional barriers for floating children to access public schools become more visible. The infiltrating effect cascading from the field of power, through the field of policy, to the field of education has been debated in Chapter 1. In order to send floating children to public schools in Beijing, migrant parents have to apply through layers of bureaucracies. Different school jurisdications have different requirements for admission of floating children, but at least five certificates/documents are required. These include: (1) fixed-term contract signed between migrant parents and their employers in Beijing; (2) residential permit in Beijing, issued by police office to migrant families; (3) evidence of actual residence in Beijing (e.g., rental contract); (4) evidence of official Household Registration Status of the migrant family; and (5) a statement of no guardianship and caregiving available in rural hometown, issued by civil service departments. Most migrant workers engage in non-indentured jobs without any official work

Community-based resilience building 157 contract. Many migrant families live in obsolete houses in city outskirts without properly signed rental paprework. The requirement of a statement of no guardianship and caregiving available in rural hometown seems to tell floating children: “Hey, if you have grandparents in your hometown, go back and stay there like all other left-behind children!” The policy-generated structural barriers have long plauged migrant families. Consider the following excerpts from my interviews with migrant parents. The admission policy changes every year. They don’t tell us the policy one year before and let us prepare. We were told the policy two or three weeks before the admission date. We prepared the documents and they said they were not the right ones. They didn’t give us enough time and they said no when we missed the deadline. If we got the documents, they always asked for something else. There’s always a thing that stuck us. They always have a reason to disqualify us. Some kids here are ten already and haven’t gone to Year One. You let us in (the city) so we brought our kids, and you don’t let our kids in school. Kids are hurt. They would be illiterate in future, or even criminals. So what’s the point? Sigh! I don’t know what to do. If they don’t ask for evidence of actual residence in Beijing, we probably could sort it out. But they ask for it and there’s no way for us to get it. Where can we get it? We don’t have a house here. I don’t want to send him back to hometown. There’s no one looking after him. No land, no work, and nothing to do in our hometown. It’s silly to go back and stay in our hometown. We have a few people in the household waiting to be fed and we have to work here for money. It took us a year and we still haven’t got the “five documents”. At worst, I will bring her back to our hometown. If she can’t go to public school here, we will have to send her back. We can’t manage this. What else can we do except going back? If we have to go back, it’ll be just me to go back with her. We can only go and see. If she doesn’t go to school, that’s a real problem. Some floating children might be lucky if their parents successfully have the “five documents” in hand. But it is too early to celebrate. Current policies do not support their participation in entrance examinations to senior high school and university if they do not have a Beijing Hukou (Household Registration Status). Resultantly, these children have to return to their hometown one or two years before the entrance examinations, and become left-behind children in rural regions. Apparently, there are structural deficiencies in multiple ecologies around floating children and left-behind children. Within the macro-ecosystem, the rapid pace of urbanisation and large-scale internal migration place these children at a structural disadvantage. Within the exosystem, education governments and policy makers never wholeheartedly support these children. Within the mesosystem, school-family-community ties are weak. Within the microsystem, schools are not

158  Community-based resilience building always a welcoming space for these children and families are often torn apart by the social forces of migration. Insterestingly, many floating children and leftbehind children survive and thrive in the face of structural adversities. They grow equally well as their urban peers. Of all the contributors to the resilience of these children, the power of community work emerges from my research. Before I proceed to report on my empirical data, I provide some background information of the community schools with which I have maintained a research connection over the years.

Evergreen community schools: sanctuary for floating children Founded in 2012 and based in Beijing, Evergreen (www.evergreen.org.cn) is a Non-Governmental Organisation that aims to promote sustainable social development through various educational programs. These programs are tailored for different groups of children and centred on three major themes: environmental/ecological education, community education, and extracurricular plans. Drawing on everyday knowledge and lived experience of ordinary people, Evergreen defines its mission as engagement in research and practice to develop a diverse, harmonious, and sustainable society. In the current context of Beijing, migrant parents often engage in long-hour labour. They start at early hours in the morning and finish late at night. They are unable to proffer decent parenting to their children. Schools in Beijing usually close at three o’clock in the afternoon. Floating children either linger around in the streets or stay home by themsevles after school. Against this backdrop, Evergreen targets floating children as one of their service groups. To faciliate social inclusion and wellbeing of these children, Evergreen has successively established six community schools that provide free after school hour service to these children. These community schools therefore become second homes to floating childen, who can then learn and play together with urban peers after a typical school day, on weekends, or over school holidays. I conceptualise Evergreen community schools as a field of mediation that aims to seal the social chasm between the rural and the urban. Evergreen’s commitment to the wellbeing of floating children strongly aligns with my research interest. In 2013, I established research connections with Evergreen. Since then, I have had the privilege to work with four Evergreen community schools, namely Xinjiekou school, Xisibeisantiao school, Tianqiao school, and Huocun school. These schools, located in different districts of Beijing, develop various programs to create opportunities for floating children and local Beijing children to interact and for floating children to obtain sense of belongingness to the city of Beijing. In this way, these community schools construct an inclusive and enabling social space – a field of mediation - where floating children and their Beijing peers learn, play, and grow together. Figure 6.1 showcases some activities organised by these community schools. Happy faces in the pictures show children’s pleasure and engagement in these activities. When other ecosystems around floating children fail to function well, Evergreen community schools seem

Community-based resilience building 159

Figure 6.1 Peer group activities organised by community schools

to become a sancturary where these children regain the sense of belongingness and happiness. My initial plan was to develop a longitudinal study to track the wellbeing and resilience of Evergreen children. I soon realised that the longitudinal design was not possible given the highly mobile nature of floating children. Any of these children would withdraw from Evergreen on any day and move with their parents to a different district in Beijing or leave the city for another city. In this precarious context, I work with Evergreen staff, using a database to document the wellbeing and resilience of children currently registered in the four Evergreen community schools. Interview data, survey data, and social network data were analysed together to inform the best possible practices as well as the design and development of prospective programs to better address the diverse needs of floating children. I hope lessons learnt and knowledge built from the work of Evergreen schools can be of relevance and reference to community-based resilience building of socially disadvantaged children elsewhere.

Resilience building and social networking within evergreen schools Data reported in this chapter were drawn from the most recent wave of data collection from children registered in the aforementioned four Evergreen community schools. This wave of data were collected through an online survey that gauged responses from 126 children (53.17% female). At the time of the survey, these children studied across kindergarten years to Year Nine, ranging in age between five and 16, with a mean age of 10.71 (SD = 2.21). For small children with inadequate literacy level to complete the survey independently, Evergreen teachers and volunteers faciliated the data collection on site. Most of these children were enrolled in Huocun school and Xinjiekou school (n = 49 and n = 46 respectively). Children from Tiaoqian school and Xisibeisantiao school constituted a much smaller component of the sample (n = 17 and n = 14 respectively). Approximately two thirds of the respondents were floating children (n = 86). Of these floating children, 36 reportedly had left-behind experiences before they moved to Beijing. Therefore, it is not uncommmon for children in the current

160  Community-based resilience building migration context to have both floating and left-behind experiences. This speaks to my earlier argument against dichotomising floating children and left-behind children (see Preface). Before I proceed to analyse and discuss the Evergreen data, I present the general picture emerging from a comparative analysis between the sample of floating children and left-behind children (n = 708) and the sample of children with no adversity (n = 894). It will be recalled that these two samples were drawn from my larger project of the wellbeing and resilience of Chinese students (see Chapter 3). Specifically, comparative analysis was conducted between the two samples across multiple domains (e.g., family affluence, aspiration for the future, peer relations in school, staff support in school, educational engagement, social engagement, family support, significant adult support, friend support, physical activity, screen time, and subjective wellbeing). Psychometric measures of these domains have been reported and validated in Chapter 3. As shown in Table 6.1, statistically significant differences between the two samples were found in all domains but the participation in physical activities. Compared to children with no adversity, floating children and left-behind children are unlikely to come from an affluent family background; have high aspiration for their future; perceive strong peer and staff support in school; engage in learning; receive adequate support from friends, parents, and significant adults; or have a strong sense of subjective wellbeing. In contrast, floating children and left-behind children spend more time in front of screens (e.g., computer, smart phone, TV, digital devices) than their counterparts without adversity. Interestingly, floating children and left-behind children reported higher level social engagement than their counterpart. This may be attrbitued to the higher likelihood of their engagement in chore, paid work, and religious activities (see Chapter 4 and also see Mu & Hu, 2016a). Compared to children with no adversity, floating children

Table 6.1 Comparative analysis between children with no adversity and floating/leftbehind children across multiple domains

Family affluence Aspiration for the future Peer relations in school Staff support in school Educational engagement Social engagement Family support Significant adult support Friend support Physical activity Screen time Subjective wellbeing

t

p

r (effect size)

6.81 2.30 4.01 5.37 9.23 −4.60 3.05 2.06 4.22 1.48 −5.21 8.41

< .000 .021 < .000 < .000 < .000 < .000 .002 .040 < .000 .139 < .000 < .000

.18 .06 .10 .13 .26 .12 .08 .05 .10 .04 .14 .21

Note: Reliability and validity of these measures have been reported in previous chapters.

Community-based resilience building 161 and left-behind children are de facto placed at a structural disadvantage. This does not necessarily mean that all these children are vulnerable and submissive to life constraints. When my analysis of the Evergreen data unfolds, it will become clear how Evergreen community schools have created an empowering social space for floating children to learn to survive and thrive in the face of adversities. Analysis of the Evergreen data yielded substantially different results from the analysis of the larger sample mentioned above. It will be recalled that the Evergreen dataset was composed of 86 floating children and 40 local Beijing children. Comparative analyses of these two groups across multiple social domains (e.g., aspiration for the future, peer relations in school, staff support in school, educational engagement, social engagement, family support, significant adult support, friend support, physical activity, screen time, subjective wellbeing) show no significant difference except that Beijing children are associated with a more favourable family background when compared to floating children. Despite the unfavourable socioeconomic background of floating children, there is no statistical evidence to claim that, when compared to their Beijing peers, floating children registered in Evergreen community schools are disadvantaged in terms of aspiration for the future, peer and staff support in school, social engagement and social support, participation in physical activities, screen time, and sense of subjective wellbeing (see Table 6.2). In the general picture, structural adversities statistically place floating children and left-behind children at risk of negative outcomes. However, floating children in Evergreen community schools show a different picture: They seem to perform OK across multiple domains when compared to their Beijing peers. For these children living in a precarious condition, performing “unexpectedly” well manifests the socialisation process of resilience. There are multiple pathways to resilience. The non-experimental, non-longitudinal design here disables me to make any claims about what spark the resilience process of these floating children. Having said that, I draw on Social Network Analysis and combine it with the

Table 6.2 Comparative analysis between floating children and Beijing children across multiple domains

Family affluence Aspiration for the future Peer relations in school Staff support in school Social engagement Significant adult support Family support Friend support Physical activity Screen time Subjective wellbeing

t

p

−2.36 −0.46 −0.69 −0.18 1.13 −0.36 −1.29 0.30 −0.52 0.08 −0.09

.020 .647 .493 .859 .261 .721 .198 .765 .602 .939 .926

162  Community-based resilience building online survey data to tentatively explain how floating children are socialised into a process of resilience. Therein lies my hypothetical explanation: It is the social capital produced through dynamic and resourceful networking within each Evergreen community school that facilitates the resilience process of floating children. Analysis and discussion follow. In the online survey, participating children were asked to nominate three best friends within their enrolled community school. The friendship network data were analysed by the software “UCINET” (Borgatti, Everett, & Freeman, 2002). The friendship network with each community school was visualised in Figure 6.2. The arrow line starts from the nominator and points to the nominee. Black nodes denote floating children, grey nodes denote Beijing children, and white nodes denote people who did not participate in the survey but were nominated by the participating children as their best friends. The size of the node is reflective of the centrality of the node within the network. The bigger the size of the node, the more socially central the individual within the friendship network. Within each community school, floating children and Beijing children were mixed together rather than grouped with their similar peers. This was evidenced by the negative EI value of homophily associated with the friendship network across all the four community schools. In other words, there is no statistical evidence that floating children tend to befriend floating children or Beijing children are inclined to befriend Beijing children. On the contrary, these two groups of children are intermingled through friendship networking irrespective of their Hukou status. In addition to whole network analysis, individual level analysis was also conducted to measure the social cohesion of each child participating in networking. Multiple cohesion measures were used. Comparative analyses between floating

Xinjiekou school

Tianqiao school

Huocun school

Xisibeisantiao school

Figure 6.2 Friendship social network within each of the four community schools

Community-based resilience building 163 children and Beijing children in social cohesion yielded no statistically significant difference (see Table 6.3). That is to say, there is no statistical evidence for different patterns of positioning or connectedness between floating children and Beijing children in a given friendship network. Findings here lead to my hypothesis: Group activities, as shown in the pictures in Figure 6.1, may contribute to the social integration of floating children and Beijing children within each Evergreen community school, which in turn may facilitate the resilience process of floating children. I now draw on interview data and survey data to provide some evidence. To better understand the role of friendship in the resilience process of floating children, I organised focus group interviews with the floating children registered in the Xinjiekou community schools. During one of the focus group interviews, I asked the participating children, “Do you like here (the community school)?” All child participants in the focus group interview gave a positive response. When I directed the conversation to “why do you like here?” comments on developing friendship through group activities were common. Consider two examples: “There are many things to do here, like reading, painting, and doing homework together”. “My parents are busy. They are always at work. Nobody’s home. But here I have friends to play with. I feel safe”. These interview accounts indicate that the community school has become a social space where floating children could gain a sense of togetherness, connectedness, and safety. This social space is qualitatively different from elsewhere where floating children were plagued by loneliness (Li et al., 2010) and discrimination (Mu & Hu, 2016b; Mu & Jia, 2016). The interview data indicate that friendship within the community school contributes to some positive outcomes of floating children, and hence can be construed as a resilience factor that buffers the negative outcomes more commonly associated with floating children in the general picture. Quantitative responses of the 86 floating children to the online survey provide further evidence. In the Process Analysis (Hayes, 2013), friend support was treated as an independent variable, subjective wellbeing was treated as a dependent variable, and resilience was

Table 6.3  Comparative analysis between floating children and Beijing children in social network dynamics

Degree Locality Centrality Step Arc Closeness Eigenvector Betweenness

t

p

−1.08 0.23 0.70 −1.13 −1.44 −0.76 0.92 −0.99

.283 .819 .487 .262 .155 .449 .362 .326

164  Community-based resilience building

Resilience b = .51, SE = .07 t = 6.91, p < .001 Friend Support

b = .47, SE = .11 t = 4.12, p < .001 b = -.02, SE = .10 t = -.17, p = .865

Subjective Wellbeing

Figure 6.3 Resilience pathway of floating children: the role of friend support

treated as a meditating variable. As shown in Figure 6.3, friend support has a significant contribution to resilience (b = .51, SE = .07, t = 6.91, p < .001). In other words, the social support that floating children receive within their friendship network facilitates resilience building. Resilience, in turn, has a significant positive influence on the subjective wellbeing of floating children, despite the structural adversities that these children face (b = .47, SE = .11, t = 4.12, p < .001). The total effect of friend support on subjective wellbeing (b = .22, SE = .08, t = 2.69, p < .01) was composed of two parts: the direct effect (b = -.02, SE = .10, t = -.17, p = .865) and the indirect effect mediated through resilience (b = .24, SE = .09, p < .001). The non-significant direct effect indicates that the relationship between friend support and subjective wellbeing is fully mediated through resilience. Result from Sobel’s (1982, 1986) test justifies the full mediating effect (z = 3.54, p < .001). Social Network Analysis, interview data, and Process Analysis consistently suggest the facilitative role of friendship in the resilience process of floating children within Evergreen community schools. Questions remain, however, in terms of how the friendship network comes into being within the community schools. It will be recalled that Evergreen teachers purposefully and regularly organise meaningful group activities for children enrolled in the community schools (see Figure 6.1). Therefore, my hypothetical assumption is that Evergreen teachers help develop the friendship network within community schools through organisation of group activities. During the focus group interviews, floating children voiced the significant role of Evergreen teachers. Consider the following examples: “Teachers are very kind to us. When we are hungry, teachers give us food, like good food”. “Teachers sometimes took us to parks and bought tickets for us. They took us to a lot of places we’ve never been to before”. “Sometimes teachers organise community activities, so I feel connected”. Teachers’ interview accounts further help us understand their everyday work with floating children. Consider the comment below: Floating children here have a difficult life. They lack care and love. They lack a sense of belongingness and safety, and they often feel lonely. Their parents work all day and don’t have too much time to spend with them. We are

Community-based resilience building 165 like their parents. Many of them often come to talk to us when they have a problem. We often encourage them to be independent and strong, and to be brave in front of distresses. In order to help them integrate into urban life as soon as possible, we organise many group activities. In addition to group activities, Evergreen teachers also reportedly engaged in individual level intervention. One teacher recounted her intervention practice: One of them (floating children) didn’t know how to read the clock when he started school, so he was always late (for school). You know his mum is illiterate. His dad died. Then his mum remarried an old man and migrated here (Beijing). The family is very poor. So we decided to help. We taught the kid how to read the clock and we had to start with these basic things. We actually helped him a lot. We asked him not to think about the sad things in the past. We often talk to him, just to let him know that we all care and love him. He is much better than before. For example, his confidence and ability all improved a lot. According to the teacher’s account, the child came from a very disadvantaged background – the bereavement of his biological father, family poverty, no home literacy, and extremely low quality of primary pedagogic work. Apart from all these, he was exposed to risk factors brought about by migration. The child would have been left behind further and further if he had not attended the community school. The intervention of the community school seemed to work well. It gradually built the resilience of the child. Although Evergreen teachers that I interviewed did not explicitly use the term “resilience building”, they have been actually doing it. In this vein, they serve as significant others in the resilience process of floating children. Process Analysis of quantitative data provides further evidence in this regard. As shown in Figure 6.4, significant adult support has a statistically significant contribution to resilience (b = .31, SE = .07, t = 4.34, p < .001). In other words, social support that floating children receive from significant adults facilitates resilience building. Resilience, in turn, has a significant positive influence

Resilience b = .31, SE = .07 t = 4.34, p < .001 Adult Support

b = .45, SE = .10 t = 4.46, p < .001 b = .02, SE = .07 t = .34, p = .735

Subjective Wellbeing

Figure 6.4 Resilience pathway of floating children: the role of significant adult support

166  Community-based resilience building on the subjective wellbeing of floating children, despite the structural adversities that these children face (b = .45, SE = .10, t = 4.46, p < .001). The total effect of significant adult support on subjective wellbeing (b = .16, SE = .07, t = 2.26, p < .05) was composed of two parts: the direct effect (b = .02, SE = .07, t = .34, p = .735) and the indirect effect mediated through resilience (b = .14, SE = .05, p < .05). The non-significant direct effect indicates that the relationship between significant adult support and subjective wellbeing is fully mediated through resilience. The result from Sobel’s (1982, 1986) test justifies the full mediating effect (z = 3.07, p < .01). Children who engage in a resilience process in adverse conditions may receive social support from multiple significant others. For floating children registered in Evergreen community schools, Evergreen teachers reportedly become their significant others. Social Network Analysis provides further evidence in this regard. In the online survey, participating children were asked to nominate three people in their enrolled community school, from whom they sought help when they had problems. The help-seeking network within each community school was visualised in Figure 6.5. The arrow line starts from the nominator and points to the nominee. Black nodes denote floating children, grey nodes denote Beijing children, and white nodes denote people who did not participate in the survey but were nominated by the participating children as their helpers. In Figure 6.5, the size of the node is reflective of the centrality of the node within the network. The bigger the size of the node, the more socially central the actor within the help-seeking network. Within the help-seeking network of each community school, there is a big, white node located in a significant

Huocun school

Tianqiao school

Xisibeisantiao school

Xinjiekou school

Figure 6.5 Help-seeking social network within each of the four community schools

Community-based resilience building 167 central position. These big, white nodes were identified as the Evergreen teachers who worked on a daily basis with children. The help-seeking networks consistently show that when children encounter a problem, teachers in the community schools are the significant adults from whom they seek help. In this way, teachers in the Evergreen community schools construct a supportive ecology that nurtures the resilience process of floating children. Resilience research elsewhere has found the positive effect of social support to at risk youth by non-parental adults (see Zimmerman, Bingenheimer, & Notaro, 2002). In the current context, Evergreen teachers are significant non-parental adults for floating children enrolled in community schools. As a result of the rapport and trust built between Evergreen teachers and floating children through interactions in daily lives, floating children willingly seek help, support, and advice from Evergreen teachers in time of need. The naturally formed relationships are different from the relationships formed through assigned groups or formal programs. Such a mundane model of resilience building is similar to the natural mentoring resilience approach that ameliorates youth psychological and school behaviours (Zimmerman et al., 2002).

Resilience, social capital, and togetherness-of-differences In the previous section, I have drawn on interview data, survey data, and social network data to analyse the resilience building of floating children within Evergreen community schools. To recapitulate, Evergreen teachers regularly organise various group activities, whether educational, social, physical, or cultural, to connect floating children and local Beijing children together. While in the larger picture, floating children, in general, are placed at a structural disadvantage across multiple domains when compared to their non-risk peers, this is not the case in Evergreen community schools where no statistical difference was found in any domain between floating children and Beijing children. Within the friendship network of Evergreen community schools, floating children and Beijing children were found to be interconnected without any group-based patterns of connections. That is, there is no tendency that children tend to connect with their socially similar peers. No statistical difference was found in the social connectedness between floating children and Beijing children within the friendship network. Both the interview data and the survey data highlight the importance of peer support and adult support within Evergreen community schools. Peer support and adult support were found to be statistically significant resilience factors conducive to the subjective wellbeing of floating children. Evergreen teachers were found to be significant adults in the help-seeking networks. In a wider context, floating children have long been plagued by social exclusion and discrimination (see reviews in Mu & Hu, 2016a, 2016c; Mu & Jia, 2016). The work of Evergreen strategically addresses the structural deficiencies by constructing an inclusive and enabling social space for floating children. The nonexperimental, non-longitudinal research design here makes it impossible to reach any definitive conclusions. Yet, data generated through multiple sources (e.g., interview, survey, social network) consistently indicate that Evergreen teachers

168  Community-based resilience building are significant adults in the resilience process of floating children. They facilitate the resilience process through organising group activities to develop robust social connections between floating children and Beijing Children. In this respect, Evergreen community schools nourish an ambiance of unity-within-diversity and togetherness-of-difference. I now draw on the notion of social capital to discuss the sociological process of resilience building within Evergreen community schools. Since Marx (1867) developed the concept of capital from an economic perspective, sociologists have borrowed the concept and defined social capital as investment in empowering social relations that function to produce certain profits or achieve certain ends. Leading sociologists such as Bourdieu, Coleman, Putnam, and Burt have all conducted seminal work on social capital theory. Coleman (1988) refers to social capital as a particular kind of resource available to actors, whether individual or corporate, who intend to generate benefits through networks of relationships. He proposes three forms of social relationships that constitute social capital: (1) expectations, obligations, and trustworthiness; (2) information channels; and (3) norms and effective sanctions. Despite a variety of different entities, these social relationships have two elements in common: “They all consist of some aspect of social structures, and they facilitate certain actions of actors” (Coleman, 1988, p. S98). Different from Coleman who understands social capital within a close system, Putnam (1995) construes social capital from a particular perspective of democracy and civic engagement at a larger societal level. He hereby defines social capital as “features of social life – networks, norms, and trust – that enable participants to act together more effectively to pursue shared goals” (Putnam, 1995, pp. 664–665). Unlike Coleman and Putnam who conceive social capital as a group-level resource, Burt (2001) tends to view social capital as an individual function of brokerage to connect different people together who are otherwise scattered in different social spaces. In this respect, Burt is more interested in the structural position of the individual broker than the social structures within the network. Whether social capital functions at individual level or collective level within a closed or more open system, Coleman, Putnam, and Burt all seem to develop their conceptualisation of social capital from the paradigm of rational choice theory. They all seem to agree that social actors have control over, and interest in, certain resources in certain situations. Bourdieu also accentuates social resourcefulness. Yet his conceptualisation of social capital purposefully deviates from rational choice theory. He understands social networking as a class- and culture-based “energy of social physics” (Bourdieu, 1990, p. 122). Social capital is the aggregate of the actual or potential resources that accrue to an individual or a group by virtue of the possession of a durable network of more or less institutionalised relationships of mutual acquaintance and recognition, such as family, friends, clubs, schools, communities, and society (Bourdieu, 1986; Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992). It is constituted through “contacts and group memberships, which, through the accumulation of exchanges, obligations, and shared identities, provide actual or potential support and access to valued resources” (Bourdieu,

Community-based resilience building 169 1993, p. 143). The volume of social capital is dependent on the size and structure of the network, the strength of the interactions within the network, and the quantity and quality of power and resources of connected actors (Bourdieu, 1986). In this vein, Bourdieu’s social capital theory has particular purchase on the unequal distribution of power and the social reproduction of inequalities through networking with resourceful or resourceless others. For example, students with highly dense ego networks of low-performing peers are more likely to be academically disadvantaged, whereas those with highly dense ego networks of high-performing peers are more likely to be academically advantaged (Maroulis & Gomez, 2008). Social capital in this case privileges those who have already in a favourable position and further marginalises those who have already been plagued by structural constraints. Resultantly, inequalities are reproduced. Although social capital theorists have different foci and perspectives on social relations, they all help understand the sociological process of building resilience of floating children through empowering the social connectedness within Evergreen community schools. In the large-scale internal migration of contemporary China, floating children and left-behind children are not endowed with the quantity and quality of capital valued by mainstream society (Mu & Hu, 2016a; Mu & Jia, 2016). These children are often harassed by social exclusion and discrimination, as Bourdieu (1999, p. 127) argues that “capital makes it possible to keep undesirable persons and things at a distance at the same that it brings closer desirable persons and things”. In the current context of urbanisation and migration, place of origin is largely culpable for the demarcation between the desirables and undesirables. Geographical locations become crucial and invaluable when they are translated into sociological positions. As Bourdieu (1999, p. 128) explains: Among all the properties presupposed by the legitimate occupation of a site, there are some – and they are not the least determining – which are acquired only through prolonged occupation of this site and sustained association with its legitimate occupants. This is the case, obviously, with the social capital of relations, connections, or ties (and most particularly with the privileged ties of childhood or adolescent friendships) or with all the subtlest aspects of cultural and linguistic capital, such as body mannerisms and pronunciation (accents), etc. – all the many attributes that make the place of birth (and to a lesser degree, place of residence) so important. Different quantities and qualities of social capital between the rural and the urban tear people apart not only physically but also socially. The rural-urban chasm can be insurmountable, as “socially distanced people find nothing more intolerable than physical proximity (experiences as promiscuity)” (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 128). In Evergreen community schools, however, teachers work hard to countervail the rural-urban chasm. By regularly and frequently organising group activities that engage both floating children and Beijing children, teachers create enabling opportunities for physical proximity, and resultantly close the social distance between children of different origins. As teachers function as brokerage

170  Community-based resilience building (see Burt, 2001) for floating children and Beijing children, there is no such thing called the rural-urban dichotomy within Evergreen community schools. These schools formulate a field of mediation that conflates the seemingly incommensurable social spaces – the rural and the urban in this case. Both floating children and left-behind children are stymied by the structural deficiency of social capital in the domestic milieu. For the former, they lack the social capital “that comes with the presence of parents during the day” (Coleman, 1988, p. 111). This is because their parents often engage in long-hour labour. For the latter, despite the presence of grandparents or aunts and uncles in or near the household, the physical absence of parents creates “a structural deficiency in the family social capital” (Coleman, 1988, p. 111). Beyond the domestic milieu, social relations that constitute social capital are broken as each family moves across communities (Coleman, 1988). This is particularly true for floating children who live and grow in highly mobile families. In the educational context, Coleman’s social capital is highly concerned with child-parent connections and connections between parents from different families. When such social capital is missing, the role of significant adults comes to the fore. In Evergreen community schools, teachers work hard to offset the negative effects brought about by the missing domestic social capital on floating children. In the context of parental absence, teachers become significant others for floating children. They are supportive, resourceful, and trustworthy significant adults when floating children encounter problems and need help. In 2015, the estimated population of floating children in Beijing is 450,000 (Beijing Bureau of Statistics, 2016). Floating children phenomenon remains a challenge to megacities like Beijing. Despite recent policies that aim to manoeuvre urbanisation and internal migration, floating children are de facto residents in megacities and metropolises. This will continue true, although floating children are often made illegitimate cultural citizens in the urban social space. There is urgency to build the resilience of floating children in the face of structural adversities. In this chapter, I showcase the work of Evergreen community schools, with a particular focus on building resilience of floating children through enabling social connections. The work of Evergreen is exciting and inspiring. Nevertheless, not too many floating children enjoy services similar to those provided by Evergreen. The question remains, however, in terms of how to extend the Evergreen model to a wider community for the benefit of a wider population of floating children. In this neoliberalised era, economic logic and human capital theory prevail. Investment in education is chasing immediate performance in lieu of sustainable development. Against this backdrop, social workers, teachers, and caregivers are reportedly not very active in long-term, purposeful projects that assist communities to facilitate child and youth resilience (Jefferis & Theron, 2015). Given the limited public resources, how to better fund community-based resilience projects that favour floating children within a tight budget is an empirical question. Indeed, how far the Evergreen model can travel remains an intractable question.

Community-based resilience building 171

Theoretical and methodological coda Bourdieu repeatedly distinguished his field theory from network theory. Indeed the thinkings behind the two theories are rooted in different paradigms. The former is built on relational thinking, by which social structure is construed as relative positions objectively defined by the distribution of power and the configuration of capital, and subjectively taken (for granted) through internalisation and habitus. The latter, however, is underpinned by interactional thinking, by which social structure is understood as dynamic patterns of connections. Bourdieu explicitly problematised the interactional thinking: “I insist on structural configurations that cannot be reduced to the interactions and practices through which they express themselves” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 113). He asserted, “the task of science is to uncover the structure of the distribution of species of capital which tends to determine the structure of individual or collective stances taken, through the interests and dispositions it conditions” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 114). Bourdieu may be correct, in a way, that network theory seems to sacrifice the study of underlying social structure to the analysis of “particular linkages (between agents or institutions) and flows (of information, resources, services, etc.) through which they become visible” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 114). Bourdieu may be also correct in a way that “uncovering the structure requires that one put to work a relational mode of thinking that is more difficult to translate into quantitative and formalised data, save by way of correspondence analysis” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 114). Having said that, Bourdieu was only right in his era when the science of network analysis was nothing comparable to that developed today. The burgeoning of Social Network Analysis (SNA) has not merely made it possible to visualise and quantify objective positions, relative distances, and social groupings within a field, but also become powerful enough to capture history, culture, race, class, education, identity, gender, amongst many other sociologically meaningful individual and collective attributes. In this vein, network theory is no longer only about “linkages” and “flows” alleged by Bourdieu. Correspondence analysis, indeed, was probably the best possible analytical strategy for Bourdieu, in his era, to understand social structures within a field. This does not necessarily exclude the utility of today’s SNA in this regard. At the statistical level, the coding strategy of correspondence analysis and SNA is technically identical (see review in de Nooy, 2003). At the conceptual level, Bourdieu’s field theory and today’s network theory do not seem to be mutually contradictory. Rather, they are mutually constitutive. On the one hand, social structure “determines the possibility or the impossibility (or, to be more precise, the greater or lesser probability) of observing the establishment of linkages that express and sustain the existence of networks” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 114). On the other hand, networking through gift exchange, marriage, advice, friendship, schooling, and intergenerational socialisation comes to reproduce or reshape social structures. Despite the conceptual difference between objective

172  Community-based resilience building relations central to Bourdieu’s field theory and interactional relations studied in network theory, SNA has strong potential to measure and analyse different species of capital and distributions of power within social fields.

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7 Resilience in the face of illness, fear, and stigma Being floating, left behind, and HIV positive, so what?

The widely held view of resiliency as an individual disposition, family trait, or community phenomenon is insufficient . . . Resiliency cannot be understood or improved in significant ways by merely focusing on these individual-level factors. Instead careful attention must be paid to the structural deficiencies in our society and to the social policies that families need in order to become stronger, more competent, and better functioning in adverse situations. (Seccombe, 2002, p. 385)

The history of the HIV/AIDS epidemic began in illness, suffering, death, fear, and stigma as the world encountered an unknown and devastating virus. However, collective combat of the world against HIV/AIDs over the past four decades has seen extraordinary accomplishments in creating better opportunities for HIV-infected people to live longer, healthier, and happier in a way that could have never been imagined before. The rapid development of antiretroviral therapy in medical sciences, the improving healthcare services provided to HIV-infected people, the strengthening HIV/AIDS monitor and control system, and the enhancing HIV/AIDS-related knowledge of the public have evidently manifested the collective resilience of human beings in the face of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Such resilience has empowered global capacity and global confidence in ending the HIV/AIDS epidemic by 2030 (UNAIDS, 2016). Despite the extraordinary accomplishments achieved over the past decades, huge challenges lie ahead. The estimated AIDS deaths in 2015 worldwide amounted to 1.1 million (WHO – HIV Department, 2015); and the estimated new HIV infections in 2015 worldwide were 2.1 million, adding up to a total of 36.7 million people living with HIV/AIDS (UNAIDS, 2016). Compared to the 2010 statistics, the total population of people living with HIV/AIDS worldwide has grown by 3.4 million. The growing population does not necessarily mean that the war against HIV/AIDS has not been as successful as expected. On the contrary, the growing population of people living with HIV/AIDS indicates that the work-in-progress has not only extended the lifespan of these people but also made previously hidden cases more visible and reportable. In this respect, the goal of ending the HIV/AIDS epidemic by 2030 is not too ambitious, but achievable.

176  Illness, fear, and stigma For children under 15 years old, the estimated AIDS deaths in 2015, new HIV infections in 2015, and total HIV infections by 2015 were 110,000, 150,000, and 1.8 million, respectively (WHO – HIV Department, 2015). These figures, however, are only indicative, rather than definitive, as it is generally accepted that the number of HIV-positive adolescents is far greater than case statistics (Murphy, Moscicki, Vermund, & Muenz, 2000). Over four decades of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, health sciences and psychological interventions have made marked contributions to the quality of life of HIV-positive children and adolescents. Research to date has been mainly situated within the field of child and youth wellbeing, with a particular focus on the risk factors associated with, and emerging from, HIV/AIDS. Extant knowledge has shown that HIV/AIDS-related sequelae have plagued these young people, possibly for a lifetime. These include emotional and behavioural problems, complications of HIV infection, disruption of school attendance, multiple losses, disclosure challenges, social stigma, constrained employability, just to name a few here. This seemingly endless list necessitates research and practice that help HIV-positive children to bounce back from adversities and return to a “normal” life trajectory as much as possible. The dearth of evidence base limits our knowledge of building resilience of HIV-positive children. The current chapter aims to make a contribution in this regard. The chapter looks at the resilience process of an HIV-positive youngster who have had both floating and left-behind experiences. I organise the chapter in several stages. Resilience research on HIV-positive children and adolescents is sporadically scattered in the literature. To establish the empirical basis of the chapter, I first gather this literature and present an overview of current knowledge about resilience building of HIV-positive young people. The review is followed by a succinct introduction to the HIV/AIDS epidemic in China, which helps to set the scene of the chapter. Next, I draw on my longitudinal qualitative data to explore the resilience process of the HIV-positive youngster. Specifically, I discuss the resilience factors that counteract the structural deficiencies commonly associated with negative outcomes. I conclude the chapter with some sociological implications for future research and practice in this field.

Resilience of HIV-positive children – a field that we know little about There is copious research concerning the influence of chronic illness on child and youth wellbeing. Of all chronic illnesses, HIV/AIDS is one of the most threatening. There is a steady stream of child and youth research focusing on HIV/AIDSrelated risks, promotion of HIV/AIDS education, prevention of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and intervention on HIV/AIDS-related negative outcomes. There is budding research on the resilience of HIV/AIDS-affected children and adolescents (see a systematic review in Theresa S. Betancourt, Meyers-Ohki, Charrow, & Hansen, 2013), but investigation of the resilience of HIV-infected young people has been limited to date. A handful of studies have examined psychological adjustment or coping of HIV-infected young people (Theresa Stichick

Illness, fear, and stigma 177 Betancourt et al., 2011; Murphy et al., 2000; Orban et al., 2010; Sopeña, Evangeli, Dodge, & Melvin, 2010), and an emerging body of literature has engaged in the resilience of HIV-infected children and adolescents (Adegoke & Steyn, 2017; Moss, Bose, Wolters, & Brouwers, 1998; Nichols et al., 2000; Woollett, Cluver, Hatcher, & Brahmbhatt, 2016). Working with a small sample of HIV-affected and HIV-infected children in Rwanda, Betancourt et al. (2011) found five mutually contributing protective processes that promoted positive development of these children. These include individual resources – patience/perseverance and self-esteem – as well as family and community support – family unity/trust, good parenting, and communal/social support. Findings from the study strongly align with the ecological perspective of child and youth resilience that currently prevails in the literature. However, as HIV-affected and HIV-infected children were mixed in the sample, it is unclear whether these protective factors remain robust for HIVinfected children. Orban et al. (2010) worked with 166 HIV-positive adolescents in the US and examined their cognitive and behavioural coping strategies for self-mentioned stressors. Passive emotional-regulation was mentioned as the most frequently used and the most helpful strategy. In the face of internal stressors (e.g., day-today symptoms, medication side effects, fluctuations in CD4 count) and external stressors (e.g., discrimination, stigmatisation, negative reactions and actions of others), HIV-positive youth may simply learn to tolerate such experiences through self-talk, pray, and self-relaxation strategies. Problem-solving and wishful thinking were the least frequently used strategies. For the former, when it was used it was rated as one of the most helpful strategies. For the latter, when it was used it was rated as one of the least helpful strategies. Though less frequently mentioned, social support when used was rated as one of the most helpful strategies. In another US study, social support and adaptive coping were associated with lower levels of depression but not with reduced anxiety in a sample of 230 HIVpositive adolescents (Murphy et al., 2000). Neither satisfaction with social support nor adaptive coping had moderating effect on the relationship between stressful life events and anxiety or depression. In a UK study, ventilating feelings and sense of humour were related to psychological adjustment in a sample of 30 HIV-positive adolescents (Sopeña et al., 2010). However, when age was controlled, such relationships disappear. These studies, though informative, cannot provide robust evidence on the working mechanisms of psychological coping and adjustment amongst HIV-infected adolescents. Interestingly, both passive and active coping strategies were related to emotional and behavioural problems (Orban et al., 2010). The blurring and blended findings of extant work indicate that coping and psychological adjustment are empirically different from resilience. I now shift the focus of review to resilience building of HIV-infected young people. Empirical research emerging from high HIV-risk contexts in Africa (Adegoke & Steyn, 2017; Woollett et al., 2016) and the US (Moss et al., 1998; Nichols et al., 2000) has provided preliminary evidence on the considerable resilience

178  Illness, fear, and stigma of HIV-positive children and adolescents. Using a small sample of 24 schoolaged children living with HIV/AIDS in the US, Moss et al. (1998) found that the psychological resilience to the stress of living with HIV/AIDS seemed to be stable over a two-year follow-up. Another US study of 277 HIV-positive boys indicated the resilience of these boys with regard to their adaptive behaviours (Nichols et al., 2000). Yet the analysis seemed to be centred on the emotional and behavioural problems of these boys rather than their resilience. Both studies indicated that resilience was associated with biological vulnerability and immune functioning over time, but findings in relation to resilience pathways and outcomes of HIV-positive young people seemed to be limited. Compared with early quantitative work, recent qualitative studies have identified some characteristics of HIV-positive children and adolescents. For example, HIV-positive Nigerian girls built their resilience through framing positive goals, using social competence, developing coping skills, and expressing personal challenges (Adegoke & Steyn, 2017). Likewise, the resilience of HIV-positive adolescents in Johannesburg was manifested in their beliefs, self-reflections, and traits that enabled their ability to manage adversities, as well as their social behaviours that created agency in negotiating access to healthcare and navigating through social support available to them (Woollett et al., 2016). In summary, current research has not yet paid adequate attention to resilience building of HIV-positive children and adolescents. Where this is not the case, extant research mainly emerges from high HIV-risk contexts in Africa and the US. Resilience of HIV-positive young people was largely treated as a personal quality in the context of HIV-related adversities. Less debated, however, is how structural deficiencies further marginalise children living with HIV/AIDS. Even less is known about the coordination of HIV-positive young people and their families and communities in responding to structural deficiencies. There is no, if any, research on the socialisation process that enculturates HIV-positive floating children and left-behind children into a set of resilience dispositions and capacities. The current chapter aims to make a contribution in this regard. In the proceeding sections of the chapter, I report on the emerging resilience of a HIVpositive, disabled youngster, who has had floating, left-behind, and substance use experiences. To my best knowledge and belief, the chapter is the first of its kind to address the resilience building of HIV-positive floating children and left-behind children in China.

Vicissitudes of the resilience process of an HIV-positive youngster The HIV/AIDS epidemic in China is evolving. By the end of 2014, there were 501,000 reported cases of people living with HIV/AIDS and 159,000 reported deaths in China (State Council AIDS Working Committee Office, 2015). The percentage of female sex workers living with HIV/AIDS has been comparatively low in recent years, and it was 0.22% in 2014. The reported incidences of primary/secondary syphilis and congenital syphilis, on average, were 11.6 out of

Illness, fear, and stigma 179 100,000 people and 61.6 out of 100,000 people, respectively. The percentage of child HIV infections from HIV-positive women dropped from 6.7% in 2013 to 6.1% in 2014. Amongst some high-risk groups, the percentage of people living with HIV is higher. The percentages amongst people who inject drugs and gay men were 6.0% and 7.7%, respectively. The number of HIV-positive people currently receiving antiretroviral therapy increased from 227,489 in 2013 to 295,358 in 2014 nationwide. By 2014, there have been 3,281 designated hospitals with comprehensive HIV/AIDS medical services, which basically satisfied the treatment needs of HIV/AIDS patients in China. The State Council AIDS Working Committee Office (2015) has advocated that one of the foci of national HIV/AIDS responses needs to be placed on teenagers and young people, who constitute 7.1% of Chinese people living with HIV/AIDS (UNAIDS – China, 2016). My research participant, Xiaoli, is one of these young people. Over the years, I have maintained a research connection with Xiaoli. He was diagnosed with HIV in 2013. His infection was most likely due to his repeated drug injections over two years’ time. In 2015, he was hospitalised for a six-week intensive care due to AIDS-related complications, and has received antiretroviral therapy since then. His life trajectory was strewn with pernicious potholes and distractions on the one hand and exciting breakthroughs and progress on the other hand. He had been a left-behind child until Year Nine. He then became a floating child when his family moved to a metropolis where he enrolled in a vocational high school. This transition soon proved a crisis for Xiaoli. He engaged in school delinquency, injected drugs, suffered from HIVinfection, and dropped out school. In the face of these major threats to life, Xiaoli was on the brink of collapse. Nevertheless, he rebounded from adversities and returned to a normal life. He now participates in regular volunteer work and some paid work while he is under the treatment of antiretroviral therapy. I now proceed to discuss the resilience process that has helped Xiaoli countervail significant afflictions.

Attenuating the deficit of left-behind experience: domestic care, community socialisation, and school support Xiaoli was born into a working-class family in rural China. He has a brother and a sister, and he is the youngest of the family. His mother was laid off from a stateowned company in the 1990s. His father was a highly mobile worker who had to leave his family behind and worked across megacities in China – Shenzhen, Guangzhou, and Shanghai in the South; and Beijing and Tianjin in the North. Over the years, the family had lived in separation. It was a hard choice but probably the best and the only one from no other better available choices. Xiaoli’s father would never let the family know that he missed his family to death during his migration years; he was often looked down by the “decent” urban people as uncultured, uneducated, heathen peasant; he was more than once kicked out by the landlord due to consecutive delays in rent payment; or he used to walk miles long to his workplace in order to save the transportation cost. As the only

180  Illness, fear, and stigma breadwinner of the family during those years, he knew that every coin mattered so much. He is a reliable husband to his beloved wife, a responsible father of three, and one of myriads of migrant parents in China. His tenacity defies the negative discourse of “brutal” migrant parents who leave their children behind in rural communities. In the precarious context of internal migration in China, left-behind children are more commonly associated with negative outcomes. However, Xiaoli did not seem to suffer too much from his left-behind experience. He recalled: I saw my dad once or twice a year. Every time was very brief, maybe just a few days. I felt like he was a stranger. He didn’t talk too much anyway. I grew up playing with my sister and brother so I didn’t feel lonely. They were really nice to me. They saved their pocket money and bought me candies. Mum looked after us well. She cooked for us and washed clothes for us. Back then I had friends to play with. If you walked in the village back then you’d find everybody was the same. Their parents all worked in cities. Despite having had to grow up in the absence of his dad, Xiaoli was brought up in a caring domestic milieu where his mum and siblings took care of him. He lived in a rural community where he had friends to play with. Nurturing relationships within family and community configured social capital conducive to resilience building (also see Chapter 6). It is noteworthy that Xiaoli and his friends shared a common identity: They were all left-behind children. Parents working in cities with their children left behind seemed to be the cultural norm of the rural community. Xiaoli seemed aware of the cultural norm: “everybody was the same”. In this situation, growing up within an intact family seemed to be utopian, while being left behind seemed to be a normalised life experience. Xiaoli took his leftbehind experience for granted because such experience was socially accepted and culturally anticipated. The state of normalisation reifies Xiaoli’s habitus of resilience. Beyond the family and community realm, Xiaoli’s school life was also resiliencegenerative. See his account below: When I was little, I performed well in school. I was adept at study and sports. I loved sports when I was small. I got up early every morning and went to knock up my classmates, house by house. We went to play badminton together, or went out for a jog together. I was the demonstrator of morning exercise at school. Teachers really liked me, and even helped me wash clothes. Once I made my clothes dirty and was afraid of being scolded by my mum, so I went to wash my clothes. My teacher saw me and helped me. If you like the teacher, you will study hard. Xiaoli’s favourable attitude towards school was evident. He was academically engaged and hence “performed well in school”. He had a positive relationship with teachers. He formulated close peer relations through sports activities. He

Illness, fear, and stigma 181 felt proud of being the morning exercise demonstrator at school. In this nurturing educational context, Xiaoli was socialised into a process of resilience through positive teacher-student relations and engagement in physical activities (also see Chapter 5). Although left-behind experience structurally and statistically places children in jeopardy, this is not the case for Xiaoli. His family upbringing, community socialisation, and school life collaboratively constructed enabling microsystems (Bronfenbrenner, 1979) that bolstered resilience. Through the process of resilience, he was enculturated into a system of dispositions (habitus) and navigated to a set of resources (social capital in particular) required for bouncing back from adversities. By dint of habitus, Xiaoli’s body and mind would know how to positively respond to the structural constraints in the migration context. By virtue of capital, he realised the exchange value of resources and converted these resources into positive outcomes despite his unfavourable social position as a left-behind child. In brief, resilience is not his personal trait or individual purview, but a process of socialisation rife with strategies emerging from both his cognitive schemata and his position taking in time of change and challenge. Yet resilience is not a static or immortal process. As Xiaoli’s story unfolds, it will soon become clear how resilience is constantly shaped and reshaped by social dynamics.

Precipitous collapse of the foundation of resilience: falling prey to the affliction of migration Upon completion of junior high school, Xiaoli, together with his mum, brother, and sister, moved to the metropolis where his dad was working. After so many years of separation, the family finally reunited. Life was better off for the family because Xiaoli’s brother and sister, who both dropped out of school early, got some labour work soon after they moved to the metropolis. His brother worked as a janitor for a company and his sister worked on a dumping ground. The salary of both was low, but at least the family did not have to rely solely on the father’s income. However, it was too soon to celebrate the family’s new life chapter. Similar to many other floating children, Xiaoli was thwarted by institutional barriers for accessing public schooling (also see Chapter 1). Without an urban Hukou (Household Registration Status) of the metropolis, the family was unable to send Xiaoli’s to a public senior high school. Alternatively, Xiaoli was sent to a vocational high school, the tuition of which was affordable. The school has long faced the problems of delinquency and vandalism, but Xiaoli’s parents did not seem to know the notoriety of the school when they made the school choice. In this respect, Xiaoli’s parents were tantamount to many migrant parents who did not have the essential economic, cultural, social, and symbolic capital (e.g., money, knowledge, networks, and urban Hukou) required for strategic selection of good-quality public schooling for their children (Mu & Hu, 2016). As suggested by previous research (Ball & Vincent, 1998), parents made school choice by virtue of the grapevine knowledge socially embedded in networks and localities, which were unequally distributed across and differently

182  Illness, fear, and stigma used by different social-class groups. Upper-middle- and upper-class parents have plenty of cultural and social capital that often enables them to confidently navigate the system and excavate all the useful information to help with their decision making. In contrast, working-class parents have no recourse but to “happily” accept the (only) available school for their children. In Xiaoli’s case, the choice of the vocational high school was a blight, as he recounted: Teachers were not good at all. They didn’t care about us. They often scolded us, sometimes in dirty words . . . Once the teacher didn’t believe I wrote the assignment myself because he knew my parents were poorly educated. He said I copied others, so he made me write a new one . . . Then I didn’t have interest in learning. The teacher arranged all the academically poor students to sit at the back of the classroom, not like one good student seated with a not good one. We were really noisy at the back and teachers didn’t intervene. We were all talking and eating in class. I often hung out with these delinquent fellas. They took me to watch movies, sometimes porn stuff. I played truant with them and stole money from home to buy the stuff (drugs) . . . I felt staying in school was like chronic suicide. I just wanted to escape from school. Xiaoli’s blatant opposition to school institution is not uncommon amongst disadvantaged students who exclude themselves from the social field that has already excluded them. In this regard, Xiaoli is similar to Xiaobao, who engaged in anti-disciplinary behaviours in class (see Chapter 4); the Moroccan immigrant student in France who had a defiant attitude to school and “the desire to avoid the humiliation of having to read out loud in front of the other students” due to limited French literacy (Bourdieu, 1999, p. 61); the working-class lads in England who thoroughly rejected school in favour of their own working-class subculture (Willis, 1977); the French students who made “a violet break with the scholastic order and social order” due to furious educational competition and arbitrary school verdicts (Bourdieu, Sapiro, & McHale, 1991, p. 651); and the African American youngsters, mostly male, who aimlessly roamed back and forth along the street and ducked into adjacent vacated buildings to buy and sell drugs (Martinek & Hellison, 1997). These young people were socialised into a scenario of delinquency. As their delinquent subculture became normalised, it contributed to the reproduction of delinquency. These delinquent dispositions may not emerge from within. Instead, they were unfortunate by-products of dysfunctional family life and unhealthy school climate. These young people were trapped in a swamp of structural disadvantages where their identities were misrecognised, marginalised, and even torn apart. To restore an identity in jeopardy, they had no resort except to engage in counter-cultural expressions and exclude themselves from the school institution that has already excluded them. In this vein, delinquent group became a social space of belongingness and identity.

Illness, fear, and stigma 183 Although Xiaoli’s self-exclusion from school institution was similar to that of Xiaobao’s (see Chapter 4), the outcomes were markedly different for the two. Xiaobao’s resistance to mainstream schooling created an alternative pathway to wellbeing, and hence manifested his resilience. However, Xiaoli’s anti-disciplinary behaviours in school debased him – talking and eating in class, watching porn, playing truant, and stealing money from home to “buy the stuff” (drugs). He confided: Later on I inadvertently befriended a group of guys and started using drugs. At the beginning, I didn’t understand this stuff and didn’t think too much. Then I really liked the feeling of it. So people around are very important. You meet good people and you go well. You meet bad people and you go to the wrong way. Internet, friend network, and everyone around you are very important. When you were born, parents were the most important. When you go to school, teachers are the most important and peer relations are important too. As Xiaoli turned from a left-behind child into a floating child, the social dynamics around him changed qualitatively. Such a change made a considerable difference to Xiaoli. When previously, Xiaoli was involved in positive connections with teachers and friends – “You meet good people and you go well” – he was currently enmeshed in unhealthy relationships with teachers and peers – “You meet bad people and you go to the wrong way”. In this situation, two empowering resilience factors were missing, as Xiaoli explained, “teachers are the most important and peer relations are important too”. As reported by Xiaoli, teachers in the vocational high school did not support students but scolded students with dirty language. Due to poor academic performance, Xiaoli was othered by his teachers and made to sit together with the “delinquent fellas” at the back of the classroom. The physical distance between the “good” and the “bad” created a social distance. Xiaoli was uprooted from the normal trajectory. The only way to gain a sense of belongingness was to socialise with the delinquent fellas. The collapse of the previous support system and the emergence of structural deficiencies encroached on the social basis of resilience. Resultantly, Xiaoli was trapped in high-risk behaviours. He became addicted to drugs and “really liked the feeling of it”. This was a feeling of hedonism that temporarily made Xiaoli evaporate from reality. He was reportedly caught using drugs at the scene and detained by the police for 16 days. He formulated a highly negative impression of the police: I hate them looking at us kids like scum. They put people in classes and make you feel like shit. They make you feel you are the lowest. So we were like fuck, we use drugs and we’re not gonna become anything. Social exclusion and discrimination should be at least partly culpable for Xiaoli’s continuous substance use. When he was disenchanted from the illusive fantasy,

184  Illness, fear, and stigma the reality was brutal: He was infected by HIV. He recalled the moment when he was diagnosed as HIV positive: I didn’t think too much. I just didn’t wanna let others know. After all, this is nothing good, especially for my family. I didn’t think too much at that time. I just don’t wanna tell them. At that time, I only told my sister because I consider her to be my closest person. I asked her to help me, to help me leave this city. I burst into tears when I talked to her. Xiaoli reportedly “didn’t think too much”. There are two mentions of this language in the above excerpt. This does not necessarily indicate his insouciance about his HIV status. On the contrary, the language might indicate his sense of helplessness because the precipitate calamity was a striking panic that emptied his mind. The only thing that he could think of was to escape, desperately hoping to leave the misfortune behind in the city. Indeed, he seemed to have no other resort except to cry in front of his sister. He went to the hospital but doctors did not seem to be helpful. He uttered, with a strong sense of helplessness: I had no idea what to do. My first impression of the doctors was not good. At the beginning it was fine but later on I felt like they asked me to stay in hospital just to let me spend money. They didn’t asked me to take medicine or get the free tablets. After the medical check, the doctors didn’t mention free treatment, and I didn’t know either . . . I was loath to go to hospital. No matter what they said I didn’t hear them positively. Sometimes I felt they were apathetic. I didn’t know whether I was oversensitive . . . In hospital, no one educated you about this. No one told me the aftermath. No one told me it was that serious. Doctors didn’t educate me. Aren’t they supposed to know? But they never told you to take medicine immediately or how serious it is or what what. I only know I need workout. I thought as long as I kept fit there would be no big issue. How could I know I ended up like this! . . . The first treatment cost 30,000 plus [approximately USD$4,000], but doctors and nurses never told me about anti-virus medicine. I didn’t quite understand these people. I felt they were arrogant . . . The first time I was treated by Dr. W. I dislike him most. I don’t wanna see him. I don’t wanna see him for rechecks . . . He asked: “Why are you here for testing? Did you have unprotected sex? Did you go whoring? Did you inject drugs? Stop doing these or we’ll call the police”. So HIV people are into sex and drugs, and always get in trouble with the cops. That is what I got from that . . . At that time he didn’t tell me to take medicine. He only wanted me to spend money on treatment. I even didn’t know the Red Cross was just beside. He didn’t tell me that. Doctors are supposed to advocate this but no one ever said this. The social distance between Xiaoli and doctors was conspicuous. Doctors’ apathy and arrogance created an insurmountable social chasm that cut off Xiaoli’s journey to resilience. The dearth of perceived support from doctors undermined

Illness, fear, and stigma 185 Xiaoli’s resilience project, and hence disabled him to positively respond to HIVinfection. In situations where there were no other available resources, it was plausible for Xiaoli to choose to escape from reality. See his account below: I hated them (medical staff) calling me. They always reminded me of how much my CD4 was. Sometimes I marked out their phone number. When I saw the incoming number display, deep down I was reluctant to answer. Each time they called, I felt depressed all day and my mood was no way good. If they didn’t call, I wouldn’t think about this. Here Xiaoli was haunted by self-obscurantism. He was fooling himself to believe that escape from reality would make his HIV-infection forgettable and hence erasable: “If they didn’t call, I wouldn’t think about this”. He did not want to accept the fact that HIV-infection stays all through his life, and hence cannot be elided or made over. Xiaoli also developed highly negative mindset, as he confessed, “later on Dr. W told me it’s impossible for my body to get back to before. I cried immediately. At that time I just wanna give up and die.” The cruel word “impossible” seemed to be the last straw that pushed over resilience. Adults in powerful institutions – teachers in school, cops in police station, and doctors in hospital – arbitrarily positioned Xiaoli on the margin of every locale of the society. Consequently Xiaoli disliked the teachers who “were not good at all”, loathed the cops who made him “feel like shit”, and detested the doctors who were “apathetic” and “arrogant”. He developed a sentiment of “ressentiment” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 212): “the form par excellence of human misery” and “the worst thing that the dominant impose on the dominated”. Without any way to release the ressentiment, Xiaoli was swamped with self-accusation. He lamented, “after all, it was my own stupidity. I know nothing. I don’t get all this (free antiretroviral treatment) at all”. Apathetic, arrogant doctors seemed to created institutional barriers for Xiaoli. They explicitly excluded Xiaoli from key knowledge and information implicitly required for HIV treatment. Xiaoli was dispossessed of the invaluable cultural capital, but he misrecognised such dispossession as his own lack of merit. The socially constructed self-exclusion from school, self-obscurantism, and self-accusation derailed Xiaoli from resilience, the outcome of which was fatal. Having been left untreated for two years, Xiaoli’s HIV infection developed into AIDS, and he had to be hospitalised for intensive treatment. However, Xiaoli did not take his fate lying down. On the stark contrary, he transformed the crisis moment into a development opportunity and tenaciously returned to his resilience project.

Reverting to the normal trajectory and developing a better self: the power of resilience Then my body became damn bad. I just wanna stay in hospital. I just wanna be cured. When I was sent to hospital, my brain was empty. I didn’t know

186  Illness, fear, and stigma where I was. I felt like I didn’t exist. I couldn’t remember anything. I wasn’t scared. At that time, I was unconscious and lost my memory. I felt I wasn’t in this world. I didn’t know. I tried to remember, but I didn’t know what happened on that day. I knew I was dying. (Xiaoli)

Xiaoli reportedly was on the edge of death when he was sent to hospital. He had almost slipped into a coma and lost his language functioning due to HIV complications. Forty days of intensive treatment with high doses of antibiotics pulled Xiaoli back from hell and pushed him back to life. Modern medical sciences have become amazingly powerful nowadays in the combat against AIDS, while social support from doctors can never be overemphasised in facilitating resilience to HIV infection and AIDS. Previously, doctors’ apathy and arrogance socially excluded Xiaoli from timely medical treatment. Left untreated, Xiaoli’s HIV infection developed into AIDS. During the AIDS treatment period, however, doctors and Xiaoli built rapport. In this way, Xiaoli’s highly negative initial impression of doctors shifted to a favourable one, which formulated the social basis for Xiaoli to continue treatment and participate in regular rechecks as requested. Xiaoli noted: Doctors are different from one another. I particularly like Dr. Z. She’s very approachable. Whatever you ask she will tell you. She said I didn’t have to come back to hospital in person to collect the recheck results. She will check it for me and let me know. Now I ask her to check results for me but sometimes I don’t wanna bother her too much. I’m willing to disclose more to Dr. Z, but not to other doctors. For example, I don’t wanna talk to Dr. W. Rapport with doctors proffered social capital to Xiaoli. First, such social capital dredged “information channels” (Coleman, 1988, p. S104), through which Xiaoli obtained necessary knowledge about HIV/AIDS and essential information about free antiretroviral therapy. Second, such social capital underpinned “norms and effective sanctions” (Coleman, 1988, p. S104). In this way, Xiaoli started to understand antiretroviral therapy as a lifelong, usual treatment for HIV-positive people. He also started to understand regular, periodic medical rechecks as essential requirement for the success of antiretroviral therapy. Third, such social capital built “trustworthiness of the social environment” (Coleman, 1988, p. S102), within which Xiaoli was “willing to disclose more” to the doctors. Disclosure often involves communication about threatening or private conditions that are widely stigmatised or misrecognised, and hence socially and culturally perceived as abnormal and unacceptable. As a delicate, sensitive, and fragile social praxis, disclosure cannot happen in a vacuum. In the current context, social capital created a plenum for Xiaoli to gradually communicate an increasing amount of information to his trusted doctors. Xiaoli started free antiretroviral therapy immediately after he recovered from HIV complications. Without the urban Hukou of the metropolis, Xiaoli had to

Illness, fear, and stigma 187 go through layers of excessive bureaucracies in order to be included in the free HIV treatment scheme of the metropolis. Now he visits hospital for rechecks on a regular basis as requested by Dr. Z. Xiaoli has completely accepted his HIV status, as he noted, “I hope it can go away, but can it? It can’t. It has already happened”. Although Xiaoli was disenchanted from self-obscurantism, he was still unable to step out of self-accusation. He disclosed: I don’t wanna let my parents know. They’re getting old. I can’t ask them to look after me. I owe them too much . . . I just think this way. The good of parents is lifelong. No matter how they treated you before, you owe them and you could never fully repay them . . . When I was in hospital, my mum came to sign. Then I asked her to leave hospital immediately. I just don’t wanna let her know . . . My sister’s son got sick. I wondered whether I passed it [HIV] to the child. I accompanied my mum to hospital. After my mum saw the doctor, I was worried about it [passing HIV to my mum]. I thought about it. Do you know how much was my psychological burden? How worried I was? Xiaoli reportedly felt guilty. He was guilty about placing his family at risk of exposure to HIV. His sister deliberately stepped in to attenuate his self-accusation. Xiaoli recounted: So my sister said: “There’s no point blaming yourself all day. You wanna look after mum and dad? So look after yourself first. If you don’t wanna let them find out, you need to rehabilitate yourself”. So now I try to live longer. First of all, it’s for my parents. I don’t want them to see me die. I put them in the first place. I want my mum to live well. If they are healthy, I will try to live longer. If they pass away, it’s ok if I die. Only if they live long can I live longer. This is how I think. Xiaoli also disclosed his HIV status to his brother. His brother was equally supportive as his sister. Xiaoli acknowledged: Till this day, besides my parents and sister, I have my brother support me. My brother said he will look after me for a lifetime. If nobody looks after me he will look after me for a lifetime. It’s him who gave me the belief to live. This is mainly a sense of belongingness to the family. When he’s around, I feel I’m like a child because there’s someone around looking after me. When he’s not around, I have to rely on myself. I have to stay strong. He always encourages me. Sometimes I think at least I have him around . . . Sometimes I think of leaving because I don’t wanna become his burden. I find whatever a place to stay. But I feel this is my home. The above excerpts showed that sibling support was another pillar of Xiaoli’s resilience project. His siblings pulled him out of self-accusation; encouraged him

188  Illness, fear, and stigma to engage in early self-rehabilitation; and strengthened his sense of safety, belonging, independence, and responsibility of looking after parents. Sibling support gradually offset the negative effect of HIV-infection. Xiaoli did not languish but flourish. See the excerpt below: I work very hard on my rehabilitation just for independence. I can go to hospital by myself. I can look after myself, cook for myself, go to bathroom by myself . . . Sometimes I videoed my rehabilitation and shared it online. This can provide reference for others . . . I was very well before. Now I wanna live well too. I wanna live better than before. Even if I have this disease now, I need to tell everyone that I live well. So I always share things on Wechat about what I do every day, what I wear, what I eat. I wanna let everyone know I’m not inferior to anyone. As long as I have breath, I’m not inferior to anyone. Tenacity, independence, and sharing were all meaningful dimensions of Xiaoli’s resilience project. These propensities, as embodied dimensions of habitus, disposed Xiaoli to positive responses to his HIV infection. It would be empirically and conceptually wrong, however, to assume the embodied dispositions to be developed from within. Instead, these dispositions of resilience were internalised through positive socialisation within powerful institutions (e.g., doctor support in hospital) and domestic milieu (e.g., sibling support in family). Despite the importance of doctor support and sibling support, it would be empirically and conceptually simplistic to construe the socialisation process of resilience only within the institutional and the domestic space. The social space of community was also of paramount importance to resilience. Consider Xiaoli’s narration: People who know me treat me well, treat me very well. For example, the lady in the vege shop, they all treat me very well, so I’m not afraid of going out . . . The vege lady often gave me some vege for free. The postmen treat me well too. My body isn’t well, so they put parcels in front of my door and never leave them in the mailbox downstairs. They are all considerate. And the hairdressers too. They don’t charge me . . . The community manager sister S and the cleaner treat me very well. The lady cleaner often helps me dispose rubbish. Sometimes when I left rubbish in front of my door, she saw it and directly took it downstairs and helped me dispose it. The community manager sister S is pretty nice. When we met, she always chatted with me, talked to me, and greeted me. They all think I’m strong. Sister S had a toy bear and she gave it to me. Each time I saw her I said hello to her. These people are all very nice. People in this community are kind of ok. Later on I started morning exercise. The ladies all treat me well. Every day they see me they greet me and talk to me. They often encourage me, ask me to persist every day, say I exercise well, tell me I’m doing ok and have to continue, and tell me I’m much better than before. People in the community created a welcoming, helping, and enabling ambience for resilience building. The highly favourable outcome from such a resilience

Illness, fear, and stigma 189 enterprise was not surprising: Xiaoli learned to give and take, and willingly to return something back to his community. He remarked: I can’t do anything big but I can do something for others. Aunty Z trusts me very much. She came to [name of the metropolis] recently and was not familiar (with the metropolis). I took her out . . . I took her everywhere. I was like a tour guide and took photos for her. I wish more people in the society can help each other more. Resilience building within the community enculturated Xiaoli into a sense of reciprocity and altruism. This sense of reciprocity and altruism was further consolidated after Xiaoli met and befriended a group of volunteers at Red Cross to whom he disclosed his HIV-status. He commented, “They never exclude me, so I’m very content. Like when we eat together they all don’t mind”. Since then, Xiaoli has engaged in regular volunteer work to help HIV-infected and affected children. He explicated: Another thing is volunteer work. It’s an encouragement for me. I can’t do too much but I can support others through volunteer work. It is also to encourage others and also let others to support my volunteer work and let more people to help these children. For many good things if you don’t show them, others don’t know. I like to showcase the good things. When commended, I felt like I didn’t waste my time, or didn’t work for nothing. I’m very happy. It gives me an attitude. I am very content. It’s a sense of satisfaction, and is an achievement. Although I’m like this now (HIV-positive), I’m strong and can’t let others look down on me. I can find a sense of existence through doing volunteer work, and can still contribute to the society. At least I’m not like many others who just stay there doing nothing because of sickness. I feel although I have this disease, I need to be better than normal people. Here I can find the meaning of life. It’s a sort of recognition. How can we don’t have recognition? Where does confidence come from? Isn’t it exactly from others’ recognition? The recognition from various aspects, from family, from people around. Engagement in volunteer work was reportedly fundamental to Xiaoli’s resilience project. Through doing volunteer work, Xiaoli’s self-obscurantism and self-accusation gradually vanished. What emerged from participating in volunteer work was a sense of contribution, happiness, self-satisfaction and achievement, a sense of existence, meaning of life, confidence, and most importantly, recognition. These are forms of symbolic capital gained through the resilience process. Xiaoli himself seemed to be very aware of the giant leap that he has made: The first time when I went out by myself, I was scared at that time, scared of others’ attitudes, scared of others’ comments. Previously when I went out, I always had to open the door first and see whether neighbours were around. If there were people around, I shut the door immediately. I waited until no

190  Illness, fear, and stigma one was there and then I went out . . . At the beginning, I wanna hide or escape. I was scared. Now I understand I have to face it in an active way . . . Later on I was no longer scared. What am I scared of? As long as I went out for the first time, I was not scared. It should be noted that people in the community are not aware of Xiaoli’s HIV-status but aware that he was in hospital for intensive care for some time. Xiaoli was scared because he did not know how to explain his health condition when asked. But later on, he learned to step out of the house and face reality. Over the post-AIDS period, Xiaoli has not only reverted to the normal trajectory but also endeavoured to develop a better self. In the context of HIV infection, support from institution/hospital, family, and community has socialised Xiaoli into a resilience process replete with corporate counteractions against structural deficiencies and a wide spectrum of positive outcomes including persistency, courage, belongingness, happiness, social engagement, and altruism, just to name a few here. Through this empowering resilience process, Xiaoli has been enculturated into a philosophy of eudaimonism rather than hedonism (Deci & Ryan, 2008; Ryan & Deci, 2001; Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008; Ryff, 1989; Ryff & Singer, 2006). By the time I wrote this book, Xiaoli’s HIV-relevant test results have continued to show a positive trend, although the fluctuation of test results is also obvious (see Table 7.1). Xiaoli might have never rationally or purposefully reflected on his journey to resilience, as his habitus of resilience has become “a real ontological complicity, the source of cognition without consciousness, of an intentionality without intention, and a practical mastery of the world’s regularities which allows one to anticipate in the future without even needing to posit it as such” (Bourdieu, 1990, p. 12). The shift of his attitude towards HIV infection from fear to “contempt” is telling: “Does it count as adversity? It doesn’t count as adversity for me. I just go as if I never had this disease”. The word “just” has a connotation of unconsciousness. Xiaoli does not have to explicitly or strategically design Table 7.1 Xiaoli’s HIV-relevant test results over the years Test date

CD3+CD4/ CD451

CD3+CD42

CD3+CD4/ CD3+CD83

HIV load

24/11/2015 23/02/2016 21/06/2016 21/12/2016 27/02/2017 24/03/2017 12/05/2017 14/07/2017 14/08/2017

11.66 12.96 15.00 17.00 15.72 14.00 15.23 18.00 21.10

139 271 242 351 336 272 307 297 306

0.19 0.20 0.26 0.29 0.28 0.24 0.28 0.36 0.41

142189